I Wish The Shadow Would Take Me Away
by pieanddeductions
Summary: Wendy Darling didn't think she would ever go back to Neverland. She didn't think she would ever want to. But when things change, and the real world begins to sting, The Shadow returns and takes her hand. This is the story of the deal she makes with Peter Pan, and the consequences it brings to them both.
1. Prologue

**I WISH THE SHADOW WOULD COME AND TAKE ME AWAY**

* * *

_Hello, whoever happens to be reading this! So, as a massive fan of Once Upon a Time, and also of various adaptions of Peter Pan, since the first episode of Season 3 I have loved Once's version of Neverland- and, especially, of Peter Pan. He's clearly a very complicated character, and a very dark one, as well (yay fan pun!), and no doubt there's a very interesting backstory there. What I really want to know is how Wendy Darling plays into the story- which led me to think: what if Wendy went back to Neverland after her initial trip? What if 'growing up' and the 'real world' had caused her a world of damage? What if she played a fundamental role in turning Peter Pan into the character as we met him in OUAT? _

_Warning: this will be quite dark. _

_This is only the prologue, so pretty please bare with me? _

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings; no copyright infringement is intended at all. _

* * *

**Prologue**

**_T_**_hree Years._

Almost exactly three. How very long it had been- and how short. Wendy could still see the Shadow, eyes like glowing charcoal, guiding her through the lights and clouds and buildings into the stars. She could see the ocean rippling beneath her in all different shades; the pirate ship with the wide sails in the distance. The mermaids tails sending splashes of salt water in her direction. Their smiles- chilling as they were beautiful. She could see the fairy with the tiny wings, and she could hear the calls of the Lost Ones. She could see his face- one eyebrow raised, a timeless smile on his face. She realised now that it had not been a smile at all, but a smirk. Of course, at the time, it hadn't mattered.

The place had been Neverland, and the boy had been Peter Pan. It had been_ his _Shadow that had whisked her away, out the window. He wasn't much friendlier, if she could remember correctly. It was hard for her to remember correctly, though. To be perfectly honest, through all the things that stayed with her from Neverland, the howls for their loved ones in the dark was the one thing that was etched firmly into her very core. One of two things, anyway. The other was his face, and the flutter in her heart when she beheld him: this mysterious boy, who was so polite yet so unkind- who tolerated such horrible darkness. She had cried, she remembered. Cried with the lost. Peter Pan had found this all too irritating. He sent for the Shadow to return her to her home, demanding for her brother to be brought back instead. He was searching for somebody- searching quite desperately, that much was clear. Searching for a boy. He told her that the Shadow had made a mistake in bringing her. He did not expect to see her again. Nor did she expect to see him again, either.

Her heart ached every time she thought of it, but it was never long before the guilt took over. Because it had only been a moment after that that she had lost Baelfire. After everything she had done to take him in to her family, to make him apart of it, he had left so the Darlings could stay together. He hadn't realised at the time, but the family was already falling apart, even then. And he was merely the first to leave.

* * *

The next was Baby Number Four. Mrs Darling had fallen pregnant once again that same year, and, although Mr Darling tutted about financial pressures and scrunched up his nose over talk of shared bedrooms, they could not have been more happy to welcome their child into the family. Bae's lost had left something of a child-sized hole in the Darling household, after all. You could suppose that this was Mr and Mrs Darling's way of mourning Baelfire.

But this child left too- before it was born.

Mrs Darling cried when it happened. She cried for days without ever seeming to stop, for food or water or air.

Mr Darling didn't.

You see, while the doctors were trying to save their baby, they received some news that they weren't expecting. Baby Number Four was not Mr Darling's child.

As Wendy had gently explained to her by a woman with very cold hands and a clipboard, Baby Number Four belonged to the man next door with the birdhouses in his yard- not that his own wife knew of the affair, either.

It was a strange thing: to lose a person you have not yet known; and it is even stranger to have that person cause so much heartache to so many people.

Her mother mourned the baby and her father mourned his trust, and then they realised that they could not mourn side by side anymore. So, the time came for them to leave.

Father was the next to go. He fit all his things, miraculously, into a single brief-case, and he hugged each of her brothers before he rest his hand on her shoulder.

"Wendy," he said, voice gruff and curt as it had always been, "You be a good girl for your mother. No more of these silly stories. I need you to grow up. For your brothers."

He did not say 'I love you'. He did not say 'goodbye'.

Wendy, of course, didn't need to be told to grow up. Neverland and Bae and Baby Number Four had seen to it that her days of storytelling were over. Michael and John didn't understand. Even after their father moved away, they asked her again and again.

"Tell us a story, Wendy! Tell us about Neverland!"

"Tell us about the mermaids, won't you?" John begged.

"About Peter Pan!"

"You have heard more than enough stories from me," she had said sharply. "I shan't be telling any more."

Michael and John had grumbled on about that.

"I liked it better when Bae was here," Michael declared. "When is he coming back?"

But Wendy knew that Bae wasn't, so she didn't answer.

She just locked the windows at night, and stayed awake- hearing the screaming like it was happening all over again, and moving close to her brothers so she could hear their steady breathing, reassuring her that the screams did not belong to them.

They didn't know that she did that, and so they did not know that she cared. It was as though since the night Baelfire was stolen away, she had become a stranger to them.

So it was no difficult thing for her to say goodbye to them when her mother announced that they were leaving the house.

"Too many bad memories," she had said, but Wendy thought it was because her mother felt terribly guilty about what had happened between her and the man next door. She asked her about it, too.

"Wendy," her mother had exhaled sharply, completely in shock.

"Well, is it because of him that we're moving? I like our house. There's nothing wrong with it- apart from what it's close to." She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she gestured to the other man's house. "Because you cheated." It was something she'd picked up in school. Cheaters were bad people- dishonest. They cheated in games, tests, and in people.

Mrs Darling had not expected Wendy to know that- but more than that, she never expected her to say it like that- with the malice and the blame that she did.

"Wendy," she had said, "Wendy, get in the car. We are moving, whether you like it or not. You cannot decide-"

But Wendy could decide. She was nearly old enough- and she was certainly brave enough.

She had looked her mother in the eyes that day, and said something that she believed to be more true than anything else.

"Cheaters never win, mother. I cannot live with a cheater."

And so, Wendy lived alone.

* * *

It hadn't been as easy or as simple as that, of course. Her mother made a fuss and informed her father, and he yelled at Wendy and tried to get police involved. But Wendy kept her mouth shut; ran away; hid. Her parents gave up after that. It turned out, she realised with disappointment, that her parents did not much care for never giving up.

But, as Ty would come to tell her numerous times, only the very bravest never give up.

Wendy met Ty after a week living rough. She was hungry and cold and smelt quite horrendous.

Ty was the first person she met that told her that.

"What did you say to me?" Wendy had asked, completely taken aback. She was sitting under a large shade tree when the tall girl with dark skin and a cropped short haircut sauntered up to her, a cigarette glowing between her fingers as she puffed smoke through her lips.

"I said, you smell," she'd repeated, as though there was nothing at all rude about it, and she plonked herself right now next to her. She extended her arm, offering Wendy the cigarette. "Want some?"

"I- I don't know how to," Wendy muttered- because she didn't. Only her father had ever smoked like that, and, although she had never asked, she was quite sure that she was not supposed to. But this girl must have been her own age, and that didn't stop her.

"It's easy, see?" The girl brought it back to her lips, deliberately showing Wendy how it was done. She blew out a smooth ring of smoke, smirking at it as it dissolved in the air. "Just try not to breathe it in." She held it out once more. This time, Wendy took it.

"What is your name?" she asked- not knowing what else to say to the stranger who had called her smelly and offered her a cigarette. She put it to her lips and sucked in- and nearly coughed up her own lungs at the terrible stench.

"I'm Ty," the girl said, watching her struggles with an eye of amusement.

"Ty?"

"Well, Tiger- Lily," she rolled her eyes. "I know- my parents were rather of precious, weren't they? I just go by Ty. It's Easier."

"Very well, then," Wendy said, making the sensible decision to give up on the cigarette.

"Aren't you going to tell me who _you _are, now? Not very polite, are you?" Ty said, and Wendy wasn't sure if she was being nasty or friendly.

"My name is Wendy," she said.

"Hmm. Not bad. Could be better." Ty stretched her arms over her head. She was wearing a red dress- quite short, and not entirely clean. In fact, Wendy realised, she didn't look much better than Wendy herself.

"Do you live with your parents?" Wendy asked before she could stop herself. It was stupid of her to ask- and inappropriate, at that- and so she waited for Ty to scrunch up her nose in contempt and say that yes, of course she did, and that Wendy would too if she were cultured enough, or pretty enough.

But Ty grinned at her, and shook her head.

"Well spotted, Wendy. No, I'm one of the lucky ones. Free to do whatever I want, whenever I want." She glanced Wendy up and down, taking in the slightly ripped dress and the yellow-grey of it's once-white colour. "I suppose you are, too."

"I don't feel so free at the moment," she confessed. "I feel like I smell like a load of garbage, and I haven't slept in days."

"That's because you're here by yourself," Ty said thoughtfully. She pulled another cigarette out from somewhere- Wendy couldn't see where she was keeping them- and lit it on fire until it was burning like the one that Wendy was still awkwardly holding on to. "You should come with me," she said decisively. "My older cousins and I are camping out not far off from here."

"I could come with you?"

"Well, sure," Ty shrugged. "I mean, the more the merrier- is that not the saying?"

"It is," Wendy cleared her throat. "I just… the others wouldn't mind? They don't know who I am."

"Well, darling, neither do I," she smiled. "But I do know one thing."

"And what is that?"

The smile got bigger, and Wendy would come to see it again- many, many times, until eventually she could see it in her own reflection in the mirror.

"We are going to have a lot of fun together."

And have fun they did. That was the last year. Two years had past since she had seen Neverland. Seen Peter. Seen Bae.

In five months with Ty, she saw more than she had in all her life before then.

One thing that Wendy learned quickly about Ty was that she was spontaneous. Ty would do anything at any time, and she would not ask for permission. One thing that Wendy learned quickly about herself because of this: she was spontaneous as well. More than that, she was not afraid- and this was something that she quickly became known for, and admired for amongst Ty's circle of influence.

They thought that she was brave first because she played spin the bottle for the very first time and did not shy away from following through- no matter who she happened to be paired with. They thought that she was brave because she didn't throw up when she drank for the first time, even though Ty had had less than a half beer before she had done so the first time she had drunk anything. But they knew for sure that she was brave when they took her down the railway tracks- when they played Chicken.

Ty had really tried to spook her out of it. It had been a test of sorts- an initiation ceremony. A test for Wendy to pass. Ty pressed upon her the stakes: she would win if she could stay standing on the tracks for longer than Daniel (the current champion of the game)- yet at the same time, if she did not jump out of the way quickly enough, the train would hit her and she would die.

It was supposed to sound menacing- important.

But Wendy only thought that it seemed a fair game.

She remembered Daniel's face- that dark haired boy whose eyes were wide with fear- clenching his eyes shut and darting off the tracks, hardly daring to look back at her as she stood there still- even as the train grew closer and closer- far too close.

She only moved away when Ty called out her name, shrill with fear, and, while she landed on her elbow with blood trickling down her arm, she was unshaken and unharmed.

Perhaps if the company had been different, it would have stopped there. Her friends might have been worried about her, her parents may have been contacted, and the game may never have been played again. But it was Ty, and it was her friends, and so they took Wendy in as one of their own- their fearless companion.

* * *

That was the way it stayed- for almost a full year, anyway. In that time, Wendy grew ever closer to the train. They called her the Wendy-Bird because of the way she simply flew out of the way at times. They stayed up very late, and after that, very early. They stole food and clothes from stores, got into trouble with the police- but nothing serious- and they drank some more, and Wendy came to realise that relationships were not the way her mother had taught her to expect them to be- they were not adoration or admiration or friendship or respect. They were once or twice or three-time occurrences in the dark with alcohol in your blood and a voice saying, 'don't you dare stop'- a voice saying, 'I know you want to'. Sometimes, when Wendy wanted to tell it to shut up, Ty would stop her- insisting that she was over-reacting. Wendy supposed that she was. Besides, she enjoyed living with Ty- and her band of misfits. She enjoyed the adrenaline.

It was a very grown-up problem indeed that put a stop to all the fun. Money.

Wasn't it always money?

Wendy had stolen a bike from a store- a rather impressive bike with a shiny bell and tough wheels. She thought they could use it on the train tracks. Ty thought it was a brilliant idea. That was why, when the police came and found them, it was Ty who was on the bike. It was Ty who took the fall. And it was Ty who owed an angry store manager the large sum of money owed for the bike.

"You'd better fix this," she said, as cold as she had ever sounded when speaking to Wendy. "This is serious. I need that money, and I need it now."

"Don't worry about it. I'll just tell them it was me who stole the bike- they'll lay off." Wendy wasn't too concerned- although she did feel bad that Ty had been the one held responsible. Wendy had grown to be proud of her misbehaviours- she very much liked to be given credit for them.

"You think I haven't already tried putting the blame on you? They think because you're younger than me that I'm the one who did it. Can you believe that bullshit?" Ty snorted, shaking her head.

"Well, if I talk to them, it's not like they're going to argue," Wendy said reasonably.

Ty sighed, exasperated. "Oh, what a fantastic idea! They won't think I put you up to it at all." She hesitated, and then she gave Wendy a look of pure venom. "Look, kid. It's been fun having you around and all. But you're causing trouble for me now- and trouble for me means trouble for my family."

"Trouble's underrated."

"Not this time." She set her chin, making her decision. "You have until tomorrow morning. Then I want you gone."

* * *

Apparently, as much as she amused her, Wendy was not Ty's family- not as she had hoped she could be. Wendy was also not somebody who would beg. So she packed the one bag she owned, and she left immediately, not stopping even when Daniel demanded she 'come and chat behind the park' with him. She didn't owe them anything anymore.

But she had nowhere to go. And, when you are young and you have nowhere to go, more often than not you end up at the place where you used to turn to.

And so Wendy ended up back at the house. Back where she had lived not too long ago.

The house was empty now- a 'for sale' sign boasting at the front. It seemed that there were no takers- much to Wendy's relief.

She went back up to her old room that night, and she drew back the curtains. The window had not been opened since that night that Baelfire had left them. What possessed her to open it then, she could not say. Perhaps it was because it was a hot night and the air outside was cool. Perhaps it was more likely because she could sense, deep down, that the Shadow was close by again. Perhaps it was because she craved Neverland more deeply than she had ever craved anything- more than she craved Bae or her brothers or her parents or Ty.

Either way, the window was left ajar. So when it got very dark, and Wendy lay on hard floor pretending that she was asleep with nobody to fool, she saw the flicker of dark and red. She saw it, just as she had seen it years ago, when she was young and thought it was so magical and mysterious. The Shadow- back in the window-frame as though it had never left, never making a sound, looking at her without eyes. She saw its wispy arm reaching out to her, calling her back like it had three years before- as if to say, 'I missed you'. As if to say, 'come home'.

And then it did not matter whether the window was open because it was hot, or because she knew it was coming, or because she wanted to go back.

All that mattered was that Wendy Darling extended her own hand to the Shadow, reaching like a starving person reaching for food.

And when it turned around and headed for the stars, she was right there with it.

* * *

_I've finished the first proper chapter, so I'll upload that as well- tell me what you think so far, though? :) I'm sorry, it's not very good, and probably not very accurate (in terms of time period etc.)... promise it gets better when she gets to Neverland?_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_Do you know what you got into_

_Can you handle what I'm about to do_

_Cause it's about to get rough for you_

_I'm here for your entertainment_

-Adam Lambert, For Your Entertainment

* * *

Wendy could recall the feeling of flying. It was rather peculiar- just like falling, only without the impending thud of flesh on earth. It was long and fast at the same time- buildings with lights marking the way to the stars, getting higher and higher until Wendy knew for a fact that by all logic she should not still be breathing. But the air had never been more breathable.

_Neverland, Neverland, Neverland. _

She was returning. Indeed, as the landscape around her changed- as buildings became trees and people became creatures and dirty rivers became a glossy ocean- it seemed that the whole place was calling it out, acknowledging her return, welcoming her back.

_Baelfire must still be here, _she thought, and she smiled as she did.

They had flown over the sea now, the Shadow weaving her between trees non-too-gently. Wendy squinted ahead, trying to see where it was taking her. Sure enough, there was a figure there- a boy who must have been her own age. Bae? She tried to get a closer look, but the Shadow had discarded her like a bad book on the forest ground before she had the chance. Crying out in surprise rather than pain, she pushed her palms against the leaves on the ground, pulling herself up to her knees.

As she did, she noticed the boy walking towards her- his boots pointed in her direction as he walked.

"Baelfire?" She said, incredulous, hardly daring to believe it. She looked up at his face.

"Guess again."

Her heart began to race. Because, as he said, this was not Baelfire. Not her Bae. Yet she had seen this boy before. He had seemed so much older than her last time- so superior. Now he reminded her of Dan and the other boys- and he was her equal. He had not changed one bit. The blond-brown hair, the raised eyebrows, the belt with daggers caught in every loop.

"Peter Pan."

* * *

"Are you deaf? I told you to bring a boy. This," he gestured at Wendy, directing his complaints to the Shadow, "is _not_ a boy. Don't you know we have a schedule to keep to?"

Silence met him in return. The Shadow merely hovered for a moment, level with Peter Pan.

"Um, I don't think your Shadow speaks English. Shocker."

Pan rounded on her. "Look, girl, I don't expect you to understand-"

"Girl? Really?" Wendy raised her own eyebrows, pulling herself to her feet.

"Well, you _are_ a girl," Peter said.

"Well-spotted. Would you like a gold star?" she said sarcastically, brushing the dirt off her skirts. "I must say, you haven't changed at all." No, he was exactly the same- his arrogance, his lack of tact, and his eyes.

_"But what is a thimble?" he had asked her, and she had hidden her smile behind her hand as she closed the space between them, tripping over tree roots and her own feet on her way to get to the tall boy who had brought her here by accident- the boy who had magic and could fly and said the most wonderful things-_

She forced the memory away before her cheeks started burning.

"I'm sorry." He had turned completely on her, now. "You say that as though you actually have any idea who I am."

"Are _you_ deaf?" she repeated his own question. "I already said I know who you are, Peter Pan. I know that because your Shadow brought me here before- also against your will, apparently. Not very good at following instructions, is it?"

"There are no girls in Neverland," Peter said cautiously, stepping closer to her. He surveyed her face, looking for something recognisable- or some proof that this girl was merely lying to him.

"Yeah, I got the misogyny the first time around, thanks," she said dryly.

"Misogyny?" he asked before he could help himself.

"The belief that boys are inherently better than girls. Quite rude, you know. Also, wrong," she said conversationally.

Peter just looked at her blankly. "I don't think boys are better than girls."

"Then why didn't you want girls here? You never said last time."

"You speak about a 'last time' as though there _was_ one. There have never been any girls in Neverland, and nothing happens here that I don't know about," he said, ignoring her question and staring at her in puzzlement instead.

"Why, Peter, you wound me," she said. "It's me- Wendy. Remember?"

"Wendy…" he trailed off, brow crinkled as he thought. He disliked not knowing things, that much was clear, and so he disliked not knowing Wendy when she knew him. Still, he had no recollection of a girl like her in Neverland. There had only been one other, and that had been for but a short time a long time ago. Besides, this girl was nothing like the last one. This girl was wearing an oddly tight, oddly dirty dress, with boots and very long, very dark hair. The last girl had been small and thin, and wearing what Peter thought looked like a giant white bag over her body, without any shoes.

"There has only been one girl in Neverland before," he said, shaking his head at her and shifting his hand to the dagger he stored in a side-pocket. "A young one."

"Well, it was three years ago," Wendy said. "What did you expect- that I wouldn't get any older? That's just you and your friends."

"You-" Peter squinted, a look of realisation dawning on his face as he recognised her. Light eyes, that peculiar smile. "You… have grown older."

"You are just on _fire_ today, aren't you?" she said, sarcasm colouring her tone. She grimaced at the dirt that coated her hands, brushing them off on her jeans. "Yeah. I have."

"You aren't very polite today," he mused. "If I were you, I would be. You know the power I have here- if you truly have returned."

"Oh, I truly have returned, alright. I'm just not the most patient person." She shrugged, her eyes falling to the knife which he still held, half-raised towards her. "Are you planning on stabbing me now, or is there a plan B?"

For a moment, Peter was silent, still staring at her with the purest sense of curiosity. In Neverland, he had not witnessed many changes- least of all changes of appearance, of age. This girl- Wendy- had changed a lot.

Wendy sighed, not waiting for his answer. After all, if he was planning on killing her, he would have done so already- or so she reasoned. "Never-mind. I don't really care what your plan for me is, to be honest. What I do want to know is where my friend is. Baelfire."

Something flickered in his eyes then- a kind of recognition- but not the kind that Wendy wanted to see. Peter looked…angry? But that was not quite the right word. Perhaps 'betrayed' was more like it.

"Baelfire is not in Neverland any longer. If you wish to find him, here is not the place for you."

Wendy froze, not processing what she was being told for a moment.

"What do you mean 'Baelfire is not in Neverland any longer?' Where is he?" she narrowed her eyes.

"Such an accusatory look. Baelfire's whereabouts are none of your business, Wendy," he drawled. "Nor are they my own. He left Neverland of his own free will. Gone to another land."

"Back to my land?" she found herself asking, her head spinning. Bae could be back- he could have been looking for her, at the house. But he would have found it empty. He would have thought-

"I daresay not. He spoke nothing of it. Just as he spoke nothing of you," he said, tilting his head to the side. "How is it that you know Baelfire? I'm afraid he never said a word."

"Didn't he?" Wendy said, masking her hurt with a dramatic expression- a skill she had mastered thanks to Ty. So he hadn't spoken of her at all. Then again, how could she have supposed he would? Bae hadn't been with them for very long. Probably, he had forgotten all about her. But then, why would he have sacrificed himself like that if not for her?

"Indeed. So, you see, this is not the place for you. It was nice meeting you for a second time…Wendy." He gestured for the Shadow to return to them, beckoning it closer.

Wendy's smirk was gone, then- the confidence she had before gone as the Shadow took her wrist again. No, she thought. No, she had only just arrived. And it was beautiful, Neverland.

Besides, what did she have to go back to but an empty and soon-to-be-sold house?

"Just like that?" she said, trying hard not to let him hear the panic in her voice. "We've barely gotten to know each other."

He stepped towards her, amusement touching his grin. "Oh, I know you enough. The girl who cried and screamed because she was afraid of the dark. Afraid of Neverland." He gave a short laugh, shaking his head. "I have no use for fools who are afraid of anything and everything."

That hit home. Wendy drew herself up, tugging her arm out of the Shadow's grip hard and fast.

"I am not afraid of anything," she told him, with no sarcasm or game or joke in her voice. "So do me a favour, and don't insult me. Don't you ever call me afraid."

His smile got bigger- pleased that he seemed to have touched a nerve. "Oh? What will you do to me if I do? Don't lie, Wendy. No one has ever screamed so loudly as you did when you saw the Mermaids at night. The screams of a little girl- _afraid_."

Wendy snarled, folding her arms across her chest. "I am not a little girl. Just because you're incapable of change, doesn't mean the rest of the world isn't. I have changed, Peter Pan- I am not the child that you tormented once before, and you couldn't scare me if you tried." The moment she said it, she realised the gravity of what she had just done, and she remembered. She remembered every story she'd ever read about Peter Pan. She remembered the last time, the brief moments that she had seen him. She remembered the games. And she remembered that Peter Pan took everything as a challenge- and he would not stop until he had won it.

"Couldn't scare you if I tried? I bet I could scare you without trying at all." He said, eyes gleaming.

Cautiously, and very conscious of the Shadow perched near her shoulder, Wendy decided to encourage him.

"I bet you couldn't," she said, daring him to contradict her. "I bet I'd sooner scare you, Peter Pan."

"Well, that simply won't do, now, will it?" his voice was low, every word playing its own game with her mind.

"How about," she said, the thrill of the possibility of a new game- a bet- egging her on, "we make a real bet? To prove who's right."

"The girl wants to play," he mused, completely invested now. He leaned forward. "Shall we define the stakes?"

"Sure," Wendy said, confident. This- bets, deals, challenges, was what she was good at, and Peter Pan was going to know it. "If you are able to properly scare me, I'm bound to tell you at once. If that happens, then you win- and I will leave with the Shadow and never come back."

"Interesting," he murmured, pacing around her.

"And if I win," she said,

"Oh, that won't be happening," he said, but she went on anyway, ignoring him,

"If I win, I get to stay in Neverland as one of the Lost Ones," she looked at him sharply, holding out her hand. "Do we have a deal?"

Peter sucked in his breath, eyes wide. "You think you'll be accepted into our ranks? We are the Lost _Boys_."

"I thought you were certain that you would not lose," she said coolly.

"I am."

"Then you have nothing to worry about," she smiled, a quietness to her that she knew would make him nervous. Her hand was still there, outstretched towards him.

Peter hesitated for only the shortest of moments. Then his hand met her own. It was surprisingly warm, but covered in dust, and when he let go, her own hand had a dash of Neverland-dirt spread across it.

"Let it not be said that I ever turned away from a bet," he remarked, giving her a grin that might have been friendly if he was not in favour of returning her to a world she no longer belonged in. "You will be gone by the end of the night, Wendy Darling."

_Darling._

So he remembered her after all. He must have noticed her staring at him, because he snapped a 'what is it' at her presently afterwards.

She smiled. "You called me Wendy Darling."

"And?" he said, impatient as he had ever been.

Her smile turned cold then, and she shook her head. "Nothing. It's just 'Wendy' now."

* * *

Neither of them said anything further on the bet. There was no taking it back. No demands for Wendy to leave immediately anyway, deal be damned. Which was both a wonderful and a horrid thing. Because this bet was something that the two of them would come to regret more than anything else in the world. Yet it was also the best thing that could have happened to either of them.

Peter watched the girl- Wendy, he reminded himself- as she walked along the rocks surrounded by dark water, still trying to understand what had happened here- why she was back- but most of all, why she was different. He knew why she was brought here- the Shadow must have returned to her. It did that, sometimes- it was taught to go back for stubborn boys, to bring them to Neverland. It was a reasonable mistake for it to return to Wendy. No, the mystery here was_ her_.

She was terribly rude to him, he noted, and terribly confident that nothing bad would befall her because of it. Her hair was a whole other colour- dark, where it was once light. She was not tripping over a long dress this time- but treading in boots much like his own as they made their way to the camp of the Lost Boys- or so he had told her.

_Wendy. Wendy Moriya Darling,_ she had said politely the first time she had met him. But it was 'just Wendy' now.

Well, whether it was Wendy Darling or simply Wendy, she was mistaken if she thought that she could beat him in a game.

There was another, far more direct way for them to return to the camp, of course- but Peter thought it would be far more beneficial to be rid of her before that. In fact, he was sure that he could win before that, for Wendy was about to become very frightened.

He walked beside her, waiting for it to begin- for he knew it would scare her. It scared everyone. Besides, it was dark enough. Any moment now…

"_Wendy."_ Wendy started, looking out into the sea. _"Wendy, come. Swim with me." _It was Ty's voice, calling out to her. She squinted hard, just making out the figure of a tall girl, laying against a rock not a hundred metres out. A rock she could reach if she really wanted to. All she had to do was get in the water. Swimming in the dark was nothing new, and she surely had to find out what Ty was doing in Neverland. _"Wendy." _It was John now, and Michael, both calling out, both desperate for her to listen to them. _"Wendy, save us. We'll drown if you don't. Wendy."_

She spun around, searching for them, and then she turned back to Peter, hair wild.

"Is something the matter, Wendy?" he asked, pretending to be very concerned indeed.

"Yes," she breathed, shaking her head, holding her face in her hands. She gestured out to the sea, to the figures on the rocks. "See, I hear this…this…this voice, calling." Peter felt the usual sense of achievement then, knowing that he had scared her- although he could not deny that he was a little disappointed. It had not been a long game at all. But then, he shouldn't have expected to find a worthy opponent in this girl. Or so he was thinking. And then,

"it's ever-so loud. I could swear it sounds_ just_ like... a _desperate_ attempt to scare me." Suddenly, her face transformed from frightened to amused, and she grinned at him as he frowned, registering what she was really saying- what she had done. "Really, Peter? Mermaids mimicking the sounds of my loved ones, calling me out to sea… did you really think that was all it would take?" She started laughing then, patting him on the arm in a way that could only be described as patronising. He cringed away from her touch, confused, and very much angry about it.

"It was enough to make you cry your eyes out and beg to go home to your parents last time," he spat.

Wendy snorted and took a step closer, standing on a rock so that she was level with him. She spoke very slowly, accentuating every word.

"I told you I am not afraid of anything, Peter. I can assure you right now, that includes _mermaids_."

They were still calling out to her- her mother's voice, now, and she turned to look at them. They were far away, but not enough that she missed the webbed black tail flickering in and out of the water off the rocks, beckoning her closer.

_It had worked, once. A sticky hand, webs between fingers, gripping tightly to her wrist, dragging her down, into the water even as she cried out for help, and another hand, the hand of the boy, raking down across the mermaid, hissing at her until she left Wendy alone-_

Wendy laughed again, because oh, how things had changed. Oh, how it had once haunted her.

It was the laughter that disconcerted Peter Pan- that really struck him. She had said she had changed, and he had not believed her- perhaps, as she said, because he had not witnessed much change here.

This was going to be harder than he had first thought- something which in part irritated him, and in part pleased him. A short game is hardly a fun one to win, anyway.

"Come along. My camp is not far from here, and, seeing as you want to be one of the Lost Ones so much, you should meet them yourself." He nodded for her to keep walking ahead of him, but she just curled her lip, gesturing for him to lead the way.

"Ladies first," she teased, and he bit back his retort, settling for an impatient sigh as he pushed past her, heading towards the fire in the distance- the laughter, the shouts, the boys.

* * *

Please please review and let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Hi guys! Thank you so much for the reviews, favourites and follows! I was not expecting people to actually read it! _

_Hope you like this next chapter. _

* * *

Wendy, to Peter's annoyance, got along with the Lost Boys quite well.

Coming from the same world as many of them had its advantages, he supposed. They were all full of questions for her, and she was more than happy to answer them. School, governments, countries. Things that he knew nothing about, but the boys seemed endlessly fascinated by. All, it seemed, except for Felix. He stood by Pan's side as Wendy spoke to the other boys, awaiting an explanation.

"Don't you remember the last time the girl was here?" he said haughtily. "We simply couldn't make her stop crying. What is she doing here, Pan?"

"Don't worry, Felix. I have struck a little bet with our guest. She will be gone soon enough," he said easily, eyes never leaving Wendy. She was smiling as she talked to the Lost Boys, and Rufio was laughing at something she had told him.

"She'd better be," Felix muttered, and Peter looked sharply at him, narrowing his eyes.

"What is it? I know that voice. What's the matter? You don't think I'll win this bet?"

"I think that this girl has come here by mistaken one too many times," he replied. "Surely there's no need to play this game with her."

"Now, Felix, where is your sense of adventure?" He mused, dismissing the concern in his tone. "Besides, she has changed, you know."

"There is no such thing."

"Isn't there?" he asked. "I took her alongside the sea to get here. Near the mermaids. She was not afraid. She laughed."

"She knew you weren't going to let them kill her- why would she be afraid?" Felix said, unimpressed.

Pan just shook his head, patting Felix on the back as he shifted to his feet. "Take your queries elsewhere, Felix. I have a game to play."

* * *

Wendy glanced over at him as he walked towards her, hiding her smile. He had been staring at her, none-too-subtly, since the mermaids, and she knew what that meant. She had him curious- and curious was the next best thing to 'fear' in her books. Of course, she had the Lost Boys enthralled. She was glad of their company, that was for sure- glad because she could talk to them about things from where she was. Also, they were no different from Daniel, Lucian, Kaleb- all the boys she knew. Easy to impress, easy to control. Winning this bet would be so much easier if Peter Pan was like them.

But when he reached her, the conversation stopped, and the boys stopped talking to her, backing away from him, making it clear- he was not like them.

"We need firewood," he said, and Rufio and Slightly stepped forward, eager to please, but- "Wendy and I will handle it. Do what you like until we return."

From behind Peter, Wendy saw the tallest of the boys- Felix, she reminded herself- throwing her a dirty look. She just raised her eyebrows at him and turned to Peter.

"Well, we've got work to do, then." She started walking out into the forest, Pan at her side. He glanced at her in surprise.

"You're not going to complain?" he remarked.

"What's to complain about?"

"Last time you were here, you-"

"Last time I was here I was a precious little _kid_," she practically spat the word out.

"You say 'kid' as though you no longer are one," he said.

"I don't _know _what I am, and I don't care," Wendy replied. "I'm not an adult, but I'm not a kid."

"Then you are nothing," he said tauntingly, hoping to scare her. But she just shrugged.

"Maybe I am. You know, nothing's perfect," she grinned at her own joke, and Peter hid his own grin with a shaking head. "But I'm being a rude guest," she went on. "All this talk about me- what on earth have you been up to since I left, Peter Pan?"

"And why would I tell you that?" he said- not unkindly, but there was no negotiation in his voice.

"If you're not going to tell me anything else, at least tell me about Baelfire. When did he leave here? How long has it been?"

He was silent for a moment before he glared at her. "Why are you so curious about someone who never even mentioned you for two years?"

"So he's been gone about a year, then?" she said, ignoring the tormenting, even though it stung.

Peter paused for a moment, scowling as he realised what he'd just confessed.

"Oh, how clever of you," he said sarcastically. "How proud you must feel."

"Tell me about it," she grinned. "I'm just too good."

"Not too good to pick up firewood," he said, pointing to a pile only metres away. "Go get those, won't you?"

"Sure, sure." She stepped forwards- and then, slowly, she turned back, cocking her head sideways. "Aren't you coming, too?"

"It's only a short distance," he said.

"Exactly- what's the problem with walking it?" she said, suspicious at once, though it was hard to tell if she had grounds to be, with his face being so perfectly impassive.

"If you don't have the independence to walk a few metres on your own, there is no way you will ever be a Lost Girl," he said. She stood her ground, putting her hands on her hips.

"If you don't have the intelligence to realise that I know there's a trap over there that you're hoping I'll fall into and get all scared of, then there is no way I _won't_ be one."

"I have been with you since you arrived," he said, exasperated. "Tell me, how would I have had the time to set a trap without you noticing?"

He had a point, but she didn't let him know she was thinking that. "If you're so confident that there's no trap there, then you will walk over there first."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I _dare _you." She said it, smiling in satisfaction as she saw his mind working fast to formulate an answer. If he said 'yes' she knew that there was no trap- but if he said 'no', she could bet her life that there was one, and he would have to admit it, too.

Sure enough:

"On second thought, that wood doesn't look ideal for lighting. Perhaps we should look elsewhere," he said curtly, briskly walking away. Wendy followed, clapping her hands together slowly and laughing.

"So you admit it, then? I was right! Oh, you must hate that," she said, her smile reaching her voice.

"You were merely lucky you were right this time," he said, annoyed by her gloating. "Just wait. I will scare you yet."

"No you won't," she said easily. Then she winked at him. "But I'm counting on you to try."

"You're very confident," he said gruffly.

"Can you blame me? I'm fearless," she boasted, another careless laugh leaving her mouth as she walked past him, ensuring that she elbowed him lightly on her way. "Hey, look- firewood!"

He tried to glare after her as she bundled up the sticks in her arms, but he couldn't quite manage to maintain his anger. It had been a while since he had had any kind of opponent who was willing to do things like that- to question him, to elbow him, to laugh at him. The Lost Boys wouldn't dare do that. But this girl was too foolish to abide by those rules. Too foolish, or too brave- although he would soon disprove the latter.

Then he went to help her, glancing at the sky as he did. It was dark. Soon, the boys would start crying. And three years ago, Wendy Darling would have cried as well, and begged to go home. But this Wendy wanted to be Lost- she was not afraid of mermaids, and she was smart enough to avoid a trap. This Wendy, he sensed, would not shy away from the night. Not this time.

And he was right.

* * *

Mornings in Neverland were a gentle kind of light. The trees that coated the earth served as a shield from the blaze of the sun, so only a few streams of light fell through their branches onto the ground, warming the place. Wendy had not slept much- although, to be fair, she was never one for sleeping very deeply. She got about three hours of sleep just before the sun came up- and she started to hear the most curious sounds- like boys playing football, only with an unprecedented amount of yells of pain.

Naturally, that got her on her feet. She had fallen asleep against a log- whose wood had been surprisingly soft, just away from the main clearing where the rest of the camp lay. Now her back was cramped from her night curled in an awkward position, her hair was all over the place, and she was blinking to keep her eyes open- the usual state for her in the mornings.

And yet; _I made it, _she thought to herself, pride making her strides bounce. _I made it through the night. _She had been frightened for so long that she wouldn't. All those nights on park benches or squatting at a stranger's house, looking out the window and thinking that even if the Shadow did come back, even if she were to return to Neverland, she would be afraid as she had been the very first time.

But she really wasn't scared. No, she was far too numb for that.

* * *

As she made her way back to the main camp, she discovered the source of all the noise. The Lost Boys were standing in a circle, with three plants adorned with sharp thorns being thrown- none too gently- from one boy to the other. Rufio cursed in pain as Tootles chucked one his way, the thorns making gashes in his skin. Peter stood to the side, watching them with an intense kind of investment in his eyes.

"Faster, Rufio," he commanded, and Rufio scowled, turning to Felix without warning and sending him a lobbed plant that hit his palm with a sickening thud. Still, Felix made no sound, even as he pulled some stuck thorns out of his hand and passed it on to the next person, all the while looking at Peter. If he was looking for approval, he did not receive it. At least, he got a single nod. Perhaps that was all he wanted.

It was then that Tootles spotted Wendy, and he called out, stopping the boys all at once- earning some genuine groans of protest, and some grateful murmurs from others. Peter merely straightened up, turning his gaze on her. Rufio was positively beaming.

"Wendy! Did we wake you?" he said. Wendy smiled at him. He had a nice face, Rufio. Glowing gold skin meets green eyes meets the most crooked smile with the most crooked teeth she had ever seen.

"I heard you all making a fuss," she said. "I must say, I expected to find you all being brutally murdered here. Quite dramatic, aren't you?"

"Dramatic?" Felix said, not amused. "I suppose I don't expect a girl to understand the nature of a game like this. When is she leaving?" He turned to Peter, who ignored him; his eyes were still on Wendy, waiting for her to say something with a half-smirk.

"I _understand _that you're throwing a bloody pine-cone around a circle. Where's the fun in that?" She countered.

"Fun?" Peter spoke at last, stepping towards her. "And what would you know about having fun, Wendy? What fun can one possibly have, in a world without magic? Without belief?"

Wendy just grinned. "I'm so glad you asked." She walked up to Rufio and grabbed something from his belt, much to his obvious surprise.

"What are you doing with that?" Felix asked sharply, the first to notice that it was Rufio's hand-crafted arrow that she now held in her hand. Peter leaned forward, unsure yet whether he should intervene. She just smiled disarmingly, moving instead towards Felix now and holding out her palms. "Give me your bow."

"My…" he tightened his grip on it, eyes flashing to Pan, waiting for some kind of assistance, an order. But his leader merely stood and waited. Felix grew impatient, "You're not really going to let this girl take our weapons, are you?"

The Lost Boys, and Wendy, turned to him, awaiting his answer. Wendy met his eyes- a challenge in them.

"Give her the bow," was all he said. Wendy curtsied in his direction, albeit mockingly, and Felix didn't hide his resentment as he handed over the impressive object- carved from the wood of surrounding trees over tireless hours. Drawing her hand across the bow and putting the arrow in place, Wendy addressed the group.

"I need a small object. Something one could balance on one's hand."

"That's specific," Felix murmured, still glaring.

"Would an apple do?" It was Rufio, eager to impress. He stumbled forward, holding out the shining fruit towards her.

"An apple will work splendidly," she said. "Why don't you give it to Felix?"

"I thought you wanted it?" Rufio said, confused.

"It's all apart of the game," she explained, hiding her smile. "You'll see."

Rufio shrugged, eager enough to find out how to play, and he emptied the apple into Felix's own hand.

"What's the meaning of this?" he said tiredly. Wendy was unable to hide her smile for much longer, but she tried. He looked bored. He would not look bored for much longer.

"Hold out your hand to the side. Keep it flat," she instructed. After another exasperated look at Pan, who did nothing to spare him the humiliation, he did as she asked, his hand outstretched to the left.

"Good," she said. "Now," she lifted the bow, pulling back firmly, twisting her hips the way she'd been taught to at her last archery camp. She hadn't shot an arrow in a long time, but she was good at it. Good enough to get it right on the first go. Although, she mused to herself, it wouldn't be all too awful if she did miss. "Don't move."

Felix's eyes widened as he realised what she intended to do, and he opened his mouth too, ready to protest- to call to Peter, to yell at the stupid girl who stood before him-

And then he realised that she had already fired her shot.

* * *

There was a gentle hiss of air moving aside to make room for the arrow, and then the apple was gone from his hand, ensnared by the arrow in the blink of a mili-moment.

There was almost a collective intake of breath, the Lost Boys staring as the apple hit the ground, looking from it, to Felix, to Wendy, who stood now with the bow lowered, a satisfied look on her face. Even Peter was struck speechless for a time, completely taken aback by what had just happened. It was Felix who was the first to speak- if speak was the right way to put it. His breathing was fast from fear, and his eyes were wild as he advanced on Wendy.

"What was that?" he yelled. "You stupid girl- you could have gotten me killed!"

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "At most, you would've lost a finger or two. I thought you Lost Boys liked games that are exhilarating. If the stakes aren't high enough, there's no chance of that." She turned to Peter then, raising her eyebrows, as if to ask him- 'do you? Do you really? Or are you all talk and no action?'. It seemed almost as though he was about to answer.

But then,

"We do!" Rufio had his grin back, and, while he was shaking, he looked across at Tootles and beckoned him over. "That looks mighty exhilarating! I say we all try it!"

"Me too!" Another boy proclaimed, and then they were all shouting it, drawing out bows and arrows and retrieving whatever apples they found discarded on the earth. Rufio even chucked an apple at Wendy, who laughed and held it out obediently before her, barely flinching as he loaded his bow and cheering when the arrow hit its mark- not so smoothly as it might have, but even so. Even Felix, however angry he was, had his own turn shooting an apple of someone's hand.

There were casualties, of course- Tootles being one of the unfortunate ones. The arrow just skimmed by his finger, but there was enough blood to make a few of the younger boys squeamish. Tootles, who had had several scars before, didn't much mind. He just teased the boy who had hit him, telling him his aim was right off. Soon, he was back in the game. They played for a long time- though it would be hard to say exactly how long. Time had an odd way of passing in Neverland. It was as though you had all the time in the world for everything, and yet time was constantly slipping away, all too quickly.

Throughout all that time, Peter was impassive, watching the group and evaluating the game.

Wendy, whose future was now completely dependent upon him, noticed this quite quickly, and, seeing the opportunity to make her next play in their own game, she picked up another apple from the ground and walked towards him, eyebrows raised.

"What's the matter, Peter? Too grown up to play with the rest of us?"

"Me, grown up?" he snorted.

"What are you waiting for, then?" She gestured at his belt, loaded with weapons. "You've got a bow and arrow… I've got an apple."

At this point, the boys had stopped what they were doing and were listening to their conversation. Some of the louder ones started to chime in.

"You should, Pan!"  
"Show her, Pan!"

"Pan's the best shooter of any of us," Rufio added.

"Is that so?" Wendy said. He was staring her down, blankly, trying to intimidate her, she thought- but she just kept smiling. She knew how unsettling that could be, when you were trying to frighten someone. She stepped backwards now, enough so that he could easily aim his bow towards her. "Seeing you're the best of them all…why not make it even more interesting?" She lifted the apple, and, careful to keep her eyes on him, she placed it on top of her head.

Peter could not stop himself from clenching his jaw in surprise, then- and the rest of the boys did far more than that. Their gasps were loud, the fear and awe in their eyes very real. Who was this girl, they thought, to do such brave and reckless things- things that even Pan wouldn't have them do.

"My arrows are not like those of the other boys," he said conversationally. "They're poison, you know. You'd be dead in a day."

"The higher the stakes, the better the game," she said, undeterred. "Come on, Peter," she smiled confidentially at him, as though this was a very intimate secret that they were sharing- as though there weren't a crowd of people around, egging him on. "Take your best shot. Consider it target practice."

* * *

_Plot twist! Let me know what you think of the idea that Wendy might have come up with the game initially. Thank you for reading!_


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_A/N: Hi guys! Wow, thank you so much for taking the time to read this! I'm really really happy that some of you decided to follow the story :). Also, I'm glad to hear from the comments that you're liking my version of Wendy! I'm so excited to see Wendy back in OUAT (have you guys seen the most recent episode :D?) and I really hope they show us a backstory for that soon!_

_Anyway, here's the next chapter. I hope you like it._

_Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing in this story. Unfortunately..._

* * *

He had lived a long time now- and yet he did not think he had ever felt quite like this. It wasn't fear- that wasn't the right word. It wasn't pain, it wasn't lost. It was something like responsibility, but not. He lived for games, and this one that Wendy was proposing was everything he loved about them- and yet he held back, reluctant to take that shot, even though he knew he was excellent.

His arrow was poisoned, and she _knew_. It was poisoned, and she had shrugged and smiled. She did not care- he realised. It was as simple and as complex as that. Even Felix feared to die- he feared for himself when she took that first shot. But here was Wendy, of all creatures, standing before him with a target above her head, daring him to do it- daring him to send poison through the air in her direction. It had to be a trick, he decided. That was the only explanation.

He stepped forward, caressing the bow and drawing it back, making his expression as cold and hard as he could- willing her to show her fear. Perhaps she was merely better at pretending now than she once was. No doubt she was shaking inside. No doubt she was terrified. No doubt she would _scream_. But all he found in her eyes was light- a sick excitement that he had seen parts of in Felix, parts of in Rufio- parts of in himself.

So he took his aim- the top half of the apple, dead centre, in line with Wendy's nose. He closed his eyes and breathed in, fingers tightening on the bow-string. When he breathed out, the arrow flew, and he stepped back, watching with a feeling in his stomach like he was about to be very sick.

There was a hard smacking sound, and Rufio let out an exclamation of shock.

The arrow had hit it's target- sinking the apple directly into the tree behind it. Beneath it stood Wendy, panting, eyes closed. As the Lost Boys cheered for him, Peter waited with eager anticipation for Wendy to open her eyes- to scream, to gasp.

That is not what she did.

No, Wendy opened her eyes, and, while they were wide, it was not with fear at all. It was with glee. Her smile was spread across her whole face, and she even let out a laugh, clapping her hands together and raising them towards him. Breathless, but beaming, she even dared to wink at him as she walked forwards, unexpectedly placing a hand on his shoulder as she passed him.

She might have complimented him on his shot, as the boys were doing, but instead, she said something better.

"Told you it was exhilarating."

* * *

_Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six-_

_"Wendy- that's enough!"_

_"It's getting far too close!"_

_"Good God, Wendy, you've won already! You can stop now!" _

_"Wendy, RUN!"_

_Four-three-two-_

_She smiled. She closed her eyes. She jumped. The train roared past her. Her elbows and knees were grazed. There was dirt on her face. _

"What was that?"

She looked up, only to see him leaning over where she was crouched on a boulder, arms folded across his chest.

"What was what, Peter?" she asked, more to irritate him than anything else.

He tutted, sitting down on the stone opposite her. "You know exactly what I mean. The game."

"Target Practice," she grinned. "I've decided to call it 'Target Practice'. Fun, isn't it?"

"Fun, yes. But not the kind of game girls play in the world without magic," he said, fixing her with a stern kind of look.

"Are you a girl from the world without magic, Peter?" she asked mockingly.

"Don't be stupid."

"Well, how would you know, then?" she said reasonably. "While it may surprise you and your Lost Boys, we know how to play darker games. We know all the best ones. I mean, throwing bloody pine-cones around is one thing- but holding someone else's life in your hands? That is quite another, don't you think?" Her eyes lit up as she spoke about it, the sound of a train on tracks still clear in her mind- Ty's voice, calling her name.

"But you weren't the one holding the bow," he said. "It was me. I had the power."

"Don't you always?" she remarked. "On this island, anyway."

"It's true," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Why did you put the apple on your head?"

"I told you, Peter," she said carelessly. "Up the stakes, up the fun."

"You enjoyed that? Being shot at?" he said sarcastically. She simply leaned in, beckoning him closer. Against his better judgement, he did, close enough for her breath to tickle his ear when she answered.

"You have no idea."

He shivered, but he saw no need to draw attention to that. Instead, he hissed something back.

"Why?"

To his surprise, Wendy almost darted away from him then, and for a minute she looked so distant he thought he would have to torment her for an answer.

But all she said was this:

"Because you're a good shot," she smirked. "I just wanted to see what you would aim for- when given the choice: apple, or me. I'm flattered, by the way."

He scowled, shaking his head, although of course that was it- that was why she was not afraid. Because he was the best shot, and she knew that. She had no reason to be afraid. And here he was supposed to be trying to win their bet. He cursed himself.

"Believe me, there are more fun ways to kill someone," he said menacingly. "And I aimed for the apple because it's a far smaller target than your big head. More skill required. It would have been too easy to kill you."

"Ouch," she said, finding his retaliation- if it were possible- amusing. "Careful, Peter. You might just hurt my feelings- if I had any."

"Of course you do," he spat at her. "You all do- and it's pathetic."

"Is that how you_ feel_?" She taunted him.

"I…" for a moment, he was so irritated that he was rendered speechless. "You think you're so clever, don't you?" he sneered instead.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," she said, undeterred by his derogatory tone. "I just happen to enjoy annoying you. Did you know you're easy to annoy, Peter?"

"It's more that I have a low tolerance for idiots," he said.

"Exhibit B," she murmured, smiling to herself, only slightly. "But you _did _enjoy it."

"What?" he said, annoyed at her for changing the subject when he wished to continue arguing.

"The game."

"It was fun- I've told you. And original, I'll give you that," he allowed.

"_But?_ Oh, don't you dare tell me there's anything more fun to do here. You got to point an arrow at my head- and I know you're not awfully fond of me. I would've been having the best of times- if I were you."

"You said what makes it so fun is that the stakes were high," he replied, knowing full-well that what he was about to say was unkind; smiling because of it. "You see, the problem for me was that it wasn't. I risked nothing. It was either kill you, or shoot an apple- and killing you is not a daunting prospect for me at all." He felt something bitter in his mouth as he said it, and it tasted like lying, but he swallowed it back.

Wendy looked stung- but only for a fraction of a moment. Then she was back to- well, being Wendy.

"My heart bleeds, Peter," she said, clutching both hands dramatically over her chest. "Really, it does."

He shook his head in exasperation. "I know what you're trying to do, you know. Proving that you're not easily scared?"

She smiled at him, sweet as dreamshade. "I just want you to know who you're up against."

"Oh, I know alright," he said, stepping closer to her the way he always did when he was trying to intimidate someone. "A little girl playing pretend. You're a good pretender, Wendy. But this is Neverland. And Neverland is no place for Pretenders."

He expected her to back away. He expected her to stand still. He didn't expect her to step even closer, her eyes determinedly meeting his.

"We shall see."

* * *

_That's all for now! Tell me what you think- I really appreciate all reviews/follows/favourites :). Alternatively, if you just want to discuss theories/awesome characters/ships on Once Upon a Time, feel free to message me! I'm always happy to chat about the absolute epicness of OUAT. _


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Thank you once more to everyone who's been reading this! (Especially Mikasa Yamato- thank you for your reviews over the past several chapters!). Now, onto this next chapter..._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing.*sobs*_

* * *

"You're dead, Pan."

He heard her before he saw her, but the malice in her voice was more than enough to make him grin. He turned around expectantly, and sure enough, the sight that greeted him did not disappoint. The white tunic Wendy had borrowed from one of the boys (it was quite long on her, which was fortunate- none of their pants had quite fit her, or so she claimed, so she wore it as dress of sorts) was absolutely filthy- wet and smeared in dirt, with deep red circles of blood soaking through. Her face had not fared much better, with mud coating her chin and more blood dripping down her neck. But it was her furious expression that really completed the picture.

"Actually, I am very much alive," he replied, not bothering to hide his glee. "Well, then- what happened to you?"

"Oh, you know perfectly well," she snapped, holding up a swollen insect towards him accusingly. "Thanks for telling me about the parasites that_ live_ in that lagoon, Pan."

"Oh, didn't I mention it? Yes, there are creatures there who have a bit of a taste for human blood. You were so eager to bathe, I thought you wouldn't care to hear the details." Peter said, hugely entertained.

"Of course you did," she said bitterly. "Where's Rufio? I'm going to need another shirt."

"You could always borrow one of mine," he suggested politely, trying to convince her with his eyes that he _definitely_ would not use the opportunity to put something itchy and unpleasant in the shirt. She didn't seem convinced.

"Rufio?" she demanded again, and her glare made him laugh again. He gestured back towards the main camp.

"He's fighting with Tootles around there," he said in between bursts of laughter, and she marched off at once.

"I don't suppose the parasites…_scared _you?" he called after her, and she turned around as she was leaving to do the proper thing and poke her tongue out at him.

"You wish!" she shouted, and he just kept laughing even as she hurried out of his side, flicking fat parasites from her arms as she went.

* * *

Oh, this bet was a brilliant idea, he thought. Though he would never tell Wendy, it grew boring in Neverland at times. The same games with the same boys, none of whom would ever challenge him- and since Baelfire was gone- his spirits fell at the thought- it had been fairly dull, and he had nought to do but get impatient with the Boys when, time and time again, they failed to bring him news of the Truest Believer he had been seeking for so long. Peter hadn't had this much fun in a long time. It was rather useless knowing every part of the island off by heart when the Boys had lived there almost as long as he had. But he was able to trick Wendy into swimming in the Parasite's Lagoon- climbing the tree adjorned with snakes… he was, of course, saving the Echo Caves for a very special occasion.

"Parasites." Felix, he knew, had been standing behind him for a while now, but Pan only turned around when he started to speak. "Clever. But you still haven't won?"

"She appears to be harder to scare than I first thought," Peter mused, not nearly as troubled as Felix looked.

"How do you know that she will tell you when she is scared? She could well be lying to you," he said.

"No she could not well be lying to me," he said evenly. "No more than you or anyone else can. We made a bet. She will keep to it, as will I."

"Rufio and the others are taking a liking to her," Felix said. "Perhaps she means to forget all about the bet. She walks with the Lost Ones and talks with the Lost Ones, but she is not one of us. Perhaps the others would do well to remember that."

Peter's eyes sharpened, and he drew himself up from where he was leaning against a boulder, folding his arms.

"But you don't mean the others, do you, Felix?" he said. "You mean me." He was silent for a moment, inviting Felix to contradict him. He did not. "I have not forgotten who the girl is. I merely intend to have fun with this game. You of all people should realise that."

"I know that, Pan," he said. "I just wanted to be sure. Perhaps we should be focusing more on finding the Truest Believer instead of the girl's game."

"Well, has my Shadow brought any further news of the Believer?" he asked, staring into the distance.

"I- uh. I'm afraid not."

"Then that will be all, Felix," he said distantly, thoughts drifting far away from the concerns of the blond boy at his side. As quickly as he had appeared, Felix was gone. Peter stood still for a long time before he too turned back to the camp.

* * *

"You're going to love Bonfire Night," Rufio was telling Wendy- sporting a new shirt now. She had fashioned it into a dress, tying the sleeves around her neck so it resembled more of the ones from back home. She found it rather amusing the way the Lost Boys determinedly looked only at her face, saying nothing about the attire that was so surely foreign to them. She was helping Rufio collect wood, dumping it all into a huge pile in the middle of a clearing. The rest of the boys weren't doing much; too tired from the day's games to gather wood for the fire, and so the task had fallen to Wendy and Rufio.

"We have bonfires in my world, too, you know," she said.

Rufio shook his head vigorously. "Not like we do here, you don't."

"Oh? And what is it like here, then? Does the fire burn bright blue and burst fairy dust instead of smoke?" she was only being slightly sarcastic.

Rufio chuckled. "No, Wendy. The fire is still fire. It's the music."

"The music? What, are you guys in a band? 'The Lost Boys' does have a kind of ring to it, I suppose," she said, amused.

"Far from it." Peter was behind them in an instant. "I play the music. I've been told it's almost…enchanting." He glanced at the pile of wood in the middle of the ground, raising his eyebrows. "Is that it? You're a lazy bunch today, aren't you?" He turned to the boys who were lying about, not saying a single word, and slowly they began to trudge off to collect more.

"You're in for a spectacular evening, Wendy," he continued, turning his attention back to her. "Best enjoy it while the bet remains in progress."

"On the contrary, I think tonight will be the first of many bonfire's that I shall attend here," she said easily.

Peter's eyes glinted. "How endearing. You remain confident."

"Why would I not be," she held out her arms, showing him the remaining marks from where the leeches had latched onto her and taken her blood, "if this is the best you've got?"

Peter chuckled. "_That _was just for fun."

"Fun, fear- same thing, right?"

Rufio grinned at her, but when she looked back at Peter, he had a most peculiar look on his face- as though she had surprised him. Then again, she thought proudly, she had been surprising him since she'd arrived. She was saving her best surprise for last, of course: she was going to _win_. Peter Pan, for all his tricks, for all his lies, would never expect it of her, but even now, she was working quietly towards her victory. And it was going exactly according to plan.

"RUFIO!" Felix bellowed from somewhere behind the trees. "Your assistance!"

With a short glance at Pan, Rufio rolled his eyes and yelled back that he was on his way, nodding at Wendy on his way out. Leaving Wendy alone with Peter.

_Good. _

"So," she took several conscious steps closer to him now Rufio was gone- something, she noticed, that Peter tended to do when he was trying to frighten someone. Why not make him taste his own medicine? "You say you play music."

"I do," he said, guarded. Either he knew what she was trying to do by stepping closer, or he was subconsciously intimidated. Wendy was satisfied with both options.

"What instrument?"

Peter reached behind him, removing something from his belt and pulling it around to show her. Sure enough, a small, hand-carven set of pipes sat in his hands.

"Nice," Wendy said. "Listen, don't get me wrong, they're pretty and everything- but I fail to see how an instrument like that could produce something 'enchanting'."

"Of course you do," Peter sneered. "But this isn't just any instrument, Wendy."

"Oh? Then what sort of instrument is it?" She reached up to grab it, but Peter's hands caught hers, stopping her from touching it. She quirked her eyebrows up at him, pouting. "Oh, come on, Peter."

"It won't work for you," he said. "It's mine- it won't play for anyone else."

"Yeah, yeah. You just don't want to share." She didn't move her hands, and so he didn't move his, for fear that she might try to take his pipes again. "Alright, then. I've heard enough about these pipes. Play something for me. Let me see if it is really all it's made out to be."

"Let go of the pipes first," he said. "And perhaps I will."

"Let go of my hands first," she replied, "and you _definitely_ will."

He hesitated, eyes narrowed at her. She just smiled back with her best 'I-Am-Ever-So-Trustworthy' look. After a moment, his hands loosened around hers, and, with a scowl, he let her go. Slowly, Wendy drew her hands back, holding them up with her palms facing him.

"See," she said. "Notice how I'm _not_ trying to steal your pipe."

"How kind of you," he said sarcastically.

"Isn't it?" Wendy said pleasantly. "Now, you owe me a song. Get to it."

"Watch your tongue," he said, and then, very, very quickly, "no, I didn't mean literally-" he let out a cross between a groan and a laugh, shaking his head at her.

"Why didn't you say so, then?" she said, drawing her tongue back and shrugging her shoulders. "Go on, I'm waiting."

"Who am I to deny Wendy her song?" Peter said dramatically.

He actually did a mock bow then, bringing the pipes to his lips with a flourish.

And then he became aware of the yells that were coming from behind them- from where the boys had gone to find more firewood.

With the instrument half-way to his mouth, he dropped it back to his sides, looking sharply over his shoulder. In that one glance, he saw everything he needed to see. The Lost Boys, indignant, weapons in hand, some of them injured. Felix, leading them back, that look on his face that always told him when something was wrong. And Rufio not among them. Realising more quickly than anyone else could what must have transpired, Peter turned to Wendy abruptly.

"It seems your song will have to wait," he told her, just as Felix came back to the clearing.

Wendy sighed. "And what's your big excuse?"

Felix frowned at her- it seemed he was always doing that, she noticed- but it was Peter who answered her.

"Rufio." He turned to Felix for confirmation. "He's been taken by the pirates, hasn't he?"

* * *

At mention of Rufio, Wendy grew instantly serious, looking from Peter to Felix.

"He has," Felix said gravely. "The old pirate- Smee, he snuck up on us while we were collecting firewood. It would appear he used fairy-dust to escape us when he took Rufio," he added that last part reluctantly. "And there's something else, as well. Or rather, someone else…"

"Who?" Peter demanded. Felix stepped aside, calling out in a solemn voice.

"Come out, Tinkerbelle."

* * *

_Sorry it's a bit short- I do have quite a lot more already written and ready to be uploaded, though :). Remember to tell me what you thought of the chapter! _


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

_Thank you! Seriously, every review/favourite/follow makes me so happy and so shocked, you guys are all lovely! Ehem. Anyway. Back to the story. I hope you enjoy this next chapter- time to meet some of the other characters. Aka: Tinkerbelle- and, next chapter, Hook!_

* * *

_Tinkerbelle? _ Wendy had not been so confused since she had arrived in Neverland. She looked at Peter, wondering if he might at least stop to explain what was happening to her, but he was not paying her any mind. At mention of Tinkerbelle, Peter went from looking serious to absolutely menacing.

There was a light, fluttering sound, like the sound that a flock of birds makes when they're all flying in one direction at one time, and suddenly, a woman appeared. At least, she looked like a woman- but there was something about her that was not human. She wore a dress of dark green vines, her hair was light and tangled, and on her back, folding away, were what appeared to be-  
"Wings?" Wendy blurted out.

The lady glanced at her abruptly, having heard her outburst, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Hello," she said, voice light and surprisingly friendly. "Who are you?"

Before Wendy could utter a word, Peter was standing between the two of them, a look of upmost contempt plastered across his face as he scowled at Tinkerbelle.

"You have no reason to be here and I suggest you leave now," he growled.

"Hello to you, too, Peter," she said, although she looked quite hurt by his words. "And I won't be here for long. I was sent here by Captain Hook."

"Right. Because you work for the _pirate_ now," he sneered. "Why don't you fly away back to your ship?"

"Believe me, I don't enjoy coming back here," she snapped. "I'm here to deliver a message. I expect you know by now…Rufio has been taken."

"By your new family," Peter said. "How guilty you must feel- keeping your former friend prisoner for the sake of a one-handed fool. Not that you have ever had any sense of loyalty. Your new employer does know that, right?"

Aside from being bewildered by the exchanges between them, Wendy was beginning to realise that this Tinkerbelle- who, she noted, was a fairy, of all creatures- had once known Peter Pan. By the looks of things, she had known him very well. Or perhaps it was merely that she would have liked to. For every harsh word that Peter said, the girl looked like she might well start to cry. Almost in spite of herself, Wendy found herself feeling sorry for Tinkerbelle.

"Will you shut your mouth for one moment, Peter?" she interrupted. "She has a message for us, and we're wasting time." Peter spun around, completely taken aback and annoyed by her comment, but she deliberately ignored him, nodding to Tinkerbelle, who was just as surprised as Peter- but grateful.

"As I was saying," Tinkerbelle said, "Hook wanted to make sure you knew that he has Rufio. He says he is expecting your company soon. He wants to talk to Peter Pan. He said that if…if by tomorrow morning, you have not come to him, there will be consequences for Rufio."

"Did he, now?" Peter said bitterly. "Well, go on, then. Tell him you have delivered your message."

Tinkerbelle hesitated, her wings beginning to emerge from her back once more. She hovered in the air, not moving just yet. "But…will you go to him? Or not?"

"He'll just have to wait and see, won't he?"

"If you don't go," Tinkerbelle repeated for emphasis, "Rufio may die."

"And that concerns you, does it?" Peter laughed coldly, without humour. "Don't make me laugh, Tinkerbelle."

Tinkerbelle half smiled at him, very sadly, and she shook her head. "Goodbye, Peter Pan."

* * *

"Hey! Hey, wait!" Wendy called after the girl, cursing as she cut her feet on twigs and thorns running after the fairy growing rapidly closer to the edge of the island. As soon as she had delivered her message, she had begun to fly away, and Peter had not responded to any of her questions as to who Tinkerbelle was or what they were to do about Rufio. Felix had taken him aside, mumbling something about a Jolly Roger and all magic coming with a price so that Wendy couldn't hear. Impatient, she decided that she'd have better luck going after Tinkerbelle.

Sure enough, just when Wendy thought she would have to hurl herself off the edge of the cliff to get her attention, Tinkerbelle turned around, startled.

"Oh! Hello. I'm so sorry, I just…" her voice was very husky and she coughed, raising her hands over her eyes, rubbing them hastily. All the symptoms of a girl who had been crying.

Wendy hated crying herself. She hated it because it made her feel weak and hopeless, and besides, what use was crying, anyway? But she had seen Ty cry before, and even her mother, once upon a time. And she still felt that odd kind of sympathy for this girl- even though she'd only just encountered her.

"Staring at the sun helps," Wendy offered. "Or anything bright, really. You know- if you want to stop crying quickly."

Tinkerbelle withdrew her hands from her face, sparing her a weak smile. "Thank you. I don't normally cry a lot. I just…"

"Didn't want to see Peter again?" Wendy guessed.

"Well- yes," Tinkerbelle said, startled. "Did he…do you know me? I mean, did he tell you… I'm sorry, who exactly are you?"

"I'm Wendy," she said. "I haven't been here for very long."

"It's just that I haven't seen a girl there before. With the Lost Boys, I mean. Well, I mean, I was a girl, but I- I don't count," she trailed off.

"Well, you know how it goes. The Shadow dragged me here from my world- by mistake, of course. Peter wasn't happy. I'm allowed to stay for a while though," she shrugged.

"Wow," Tinkerbelle said. "That's a surprise. He doesn't usually let people stay."

"I gathered," Wendy said. "Luckily I can talk myself out of almost any situation."

"You are lucky, then. I can't talk myself out of anything at all." Tinkerbelle sounded genuinely disheartened.

"It's fairly easy once you know how to do it," Wendy said.

"You'll have to teach me sometime," Tinkerbelle said, and then she covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, I mean- I'm sorry, I know you're not supposed to even talk to me-"

"Wait, _why_ am I not supposed to talk to you?"

"Well, Pan doesn't want anything to do with me. That applies to the Lost Ones, too." She said it matter-of-factly, but the tears from before were still staining her cheeks.

"But I am not a Lost One," Wendy said. "Besides, he can't tell me what to do."

Tinkerbelle laughed- but not unkindly. "I do like your spirit. Thank you, by the way…for before. When you stopped him."

"What was that all about, anyway?" she asked. "I mean, he seems to really-" she hesitated. As much as she wanted proper answers, she did not want to say anything that might make the other girl upset.

"Hate me?" Tinkerbelle finished, dully. "He does. It's a very long story, Wendy. Let's just say, there was a time when my allegiance was to him, and not to Captain Hook. He feels I betrayed him, and so he cast me away."

"He can't just do that," Wendy said, unable to believe that boy's nerve. "Cast you out like that. I'm sure you can't have done anything too bad – you're a bloody fairy, for god's sake- no offense."

Tinkerbelle's laugh was indeed the laugh of a fairy, charming and bell-like. Wendy wished her laughter sounded like that. "None taken. I like you, Wendy. Perhaps if circumstances were different, we might become friends."

"Screw the circumstances," Wendy said lightly. "We can be friends anyway. I mean, the Lost Boys are great, but it would be nice to have a friend outside of them here."

"You're going to be here for a long time, then?"

"Maybe," Wendy said, suddenly uncertain. "I'm not sure."

Tinkerbelle, to her surprise, nodded, seeming to understand. "Well, as someone who's not on good terms with Peter Pan, can I give you some advice?"

Wendy inclined her head, and Tinkerbelle leaned forward, glancing over Wendy's shoulder to make sure that no one could be listening in.

"You_ need_ to Be Sure. If you want to survive – and if you don't want to end up a sorry case," she gestured to herself, "you have to Be Sure of everything. You have to figure out whether you really want to stay here- whether you're willing to stay forever. You have to Be Sure what you want, and you have to Be Sure of what he wants you around for. Because I know you said that he can't tell you what to do, but… the thing about Peter Pan is that most of the time, he doesn't have to."

* * *

When Wendy returned to the clearing, the Lost Boys were talking loudly amongst themselves, some of them picking fights with others, all arguing about Rufio and Hook and Tinkerbelle and no doubt hundreds of otherse whom Wendy had no idea about. Wendy had gone to Tinkerbelle in the hopes of discovering what was going on; instead, she ended up getting advice from a crying fairy, and was more confused than she had been before.

Peter, to her relief, did not seem to have noticed her absence. He was just finishing talking to Felix when she returned, and a moment later, he had jumped easily onto the top of a large boulder, turning to face them all.

"Well, then, boys," he spoke loudly, addressing the group as a whole as they all gathered around. "You all heard the fairy. It seems our dear friend Captain Hook has taken one of our own- Rufio- as his hostage, no doubt on board the Jolly Roger ship. You know what that means."

Felix drew his blade from his belt, raising it into the air and turning to the rest of the Lost Boys, who hastened to do the same.

"We _will _pay that vessel a visit, as Hook has requested," Peter continued, speaking louder over the roars of approval from the boys, "and we will get Rufio back. Who knows? We might even take Hook's last hand back with us as a souvenir," he grinned like a little boy planning on stealing somebody's favourite toy rather than a limb.

"We will!" shouted Tootles, whose poor face had been shining with sweat and worry since his friend had been taken.

"Let's go, lads!" someone else called, and Peter grinned, looking at each and every one of them before glancing at Wendy- who was watching him with a blank expression, save for a look of concern for Rufio.

"Sorry,_ Wendy,_" Felix said, not sounding very sorry at all. "We're about to go attack a pirate ship. You understand you can't come, don't you?"

"Pirate ship," Wendy said. " Of course. Because there's a _pirate ship_ here."

Pan quirked his eyebrows at that, lip curling as he turned back to the group.

"Get your weapons. I'll get us there in a manner of seconds. And," he grinned, "would somebody get our Wendy a weapon, too? It's never a good idea to be unarmed on a pirate ship, after all."

* * *

Everyone's heads flicked in his direction, and Wendy didn't stop to hide her own shock.

"What?" she said, at the same time as Felix did (he, of course, sounded more appalled than surprised).

"You heard Pan!" someone shouted, from the back. "Weapons! Let's go, boys!"

The Lost Boys scattered, as quickly as they had returned, some scampering up the sides of trees to pull daggers from secret holes inside them, some falling to their knees and digging up crossbows. Wendy walked to Peter's side, hissing in his ear.

"I thought I wasn't to accompany you?"

"That's what Felix said," he told her, a glint in his eye. "But I make the rules here. And I think it would be a shame for you to leave Neverland never having come face to face with a pirate."

Wendy snorted. "Of course. You mean to scare me."

"And you mean to pretend to be unafraid," he retorted. "Remember our deal. You must tell me the instant you are frightened."

"Tell you I will," she obliged. She opened her mouth to say more, but stopped as she felt something tap her shoulder. She shifted sideways, only to see Felix, holding an old knife out towards her by its handle.

"Your weapon, Wendy," he said with a twisted mouth. "It would be a shame for you to be injured on the ship." Before she could say anything in return, Felix rose his eyes to meet Pan's. "Are we ready to go now?"

Peter fixed his eyes on Wendy as she flipped the knife in her hand. It was shaking, if only a little bit.

"We are." He cleared his throat, raising both his hands in the air. "Alright, boys. Wendy," he added politely. "Do try not to fall over." As Wendy looked around, she noticed the boys gathering together, holding onto each other's shoulders- even grabbing their own ankles for support. Before she could ask what for, Peter brought both his hands crashing down with a wild cry.

* * *

_There you have it! What did you think? _

_Also, who's excited for tomorrow night and Operation Cobra Rescue/Save Henry? Is anyone else facing the moral dilemma of wanting them to rescue Henry, but also, strangely, wanting Peter to win? Or is it just me being stupidly invested in Peter Pan?_


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Thank you everyone for reading this! And heeerreee's the next chapter! _

_P.S: what did you think of the latest episode :D? (__don't__ read the next two lines if you have not yet seen it)_

_This fanfic will be operating in an AU where Peter Pan is not Rumple's father, but is a teenage boy who was frozen in his youth when he ran away to Neverland, just because that's the assumption I made when I planned it out, so it works for the story a little better :). _

_DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the places or characters within this story and do not intend to infringe on any copyright laws. _

* * *

If she had the time to react, Wendy may just have screamed. The second Peter's hands fell, a clash of dark and light had struck over them with a sound so loud and so sudden that it rendered them all stunned for a moment, unable to see anything of their surroundings. Everything was shaking, too- the ground fell away from beneath her feet and even as Wendy fell she could feel the impending impact of landing, and a high pitched cry seemed to echo through the dark. All of this lasted for only a moment, mind you. The next, the terrible blend of contradictory colours was gone. But they were no longer standing about the clearing in the forest. Now, the ground beneath them was creaking, swaying ever so subtly from one side to another. It was wood and soggy, and the wind was harsh, and they were surrounded by blue. They were also surrounded by men- not boys, but men- all dressed in leather and bearing beards. _They were on a pirate ship_, she realised. She also realised that she was flat on the ground, her shirt riding up far above her knees. Regaining her wits about her, Wendy scrambled to her feet, sparing a dirty look at Peter, who was looking at her with upmost amusement. He, of course, had not fallen- although some of the other Lost Boys had. Wendy had only just enough time to register that she was still holding the dagger Felix had given her when an unfamiliar, British voice came from amidst the group of pirates.

"Well, then. Peter Pan. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

* * *

Wendy squinted to get a closer look at the man who was coming closer, the group parting to allow him to approach Pan. He was clad in more leather than Wendy had ever seen on a living person, a long dark coat swaying as he walked, stubble framing his face and eyes the kind of blue that Wendy had always liked to look at. Another, rather strange detail? He seemed to have a silver hook attached to one wrist in the place of a hand.

"Captain Hook," Peter said the name as though it was the punch-line of a particularly bad joke. "You're not really going to play the innocent pirate now, are you?"

The man- Hook, Wendy reminded herself- just smirked, folding his arms. "You're here for your Lost Boy. Rufio, if I recall."

"Bravo," Peter said condescendingly. "Now, tell me, where have you taken him? You know you cannot hide him from me."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," Hook replied, and he stepped aside, bringing his good hand up to his lips to whistle. "Bring the boy out," he said in a low voice, and a large man with a heavy belt of swords heaved himself forward, his elbow wrapped around a familiar little body. Rufio was unconscious, leaning against the pirate, weapon-less and with his hands tied together in front of him. Beside him, looking distinctly uncomfortable with the situation, was Tinkerbelle. She gave Wendy an apologetic smile- something which did not go unnoticed by Peter. He narrowed his eyes, first at Tinkerbelle, then at Wendy.

At the sight of his friend, Tootles made a sound akin to that of a squealing pig, reflexively darting forwards. A thin, sickly looking man with an eye-patch fashioned out of a hankerchief stuck out his foot, tripping him, and then turning Tootles around on the deck of the ship so that he was trapped under his foot. His laugh was croaky and unpleasant. Wendy, being Wendy, saw the need to say something about it.

"Seriously? You tripped a kid less than _half_ your size and you're laughing about it? That's no accomplishment. I'd never thought pirates to be pathetic."

The man fell silent, as did the rest of the crew- and the Lost Boys, for that matter. Captain Hook titled his head, suddenly noticing her standing amongst the boys. He took a long stride in her direction, his coat sweeping behind him.

"Pathetic? Come now, my lady, that's not very kind," he said, voice very pleasant- no hidden threat in his tone.

Wendy rose her chin, guarded anyway. "I am a girl, not a lady."

"Aye, if you say so, lass," he grinned. "This is something new. What is the meaning of this, Pan? First Lost Girl on the island… there must be something very special about her indeed." All the while, his eyes were on hers. He wasn't bad looking, she decided. He wasn't bad looking at all. Before Peter could respond for her, Wendy decided to talk to the pirate herself.

"Perhaps," she said coyly, "if you ask nicely, you can find out for yourself."

Hook raised his eyebrows at that, clearly not having expected her to say anything of the sort.

"I'm afraid I am not good at asking nicely, love," he mused. "I take what I want- being a pirate and all." He glanced around at the rest of his crew, who grunted their approval.

"It seems we have something in common, then." She gave him a half-smile. "So let's you and I practice asking nicely, shall we?"

"Go on," he said, interest peaked.

"Let Rufio return," she requested. "There is honour amongst thievery and honour amongst pirates, but very little of that honour can be found in the kidnapping of a young boy."

"Is that all?" he said sarcastically. "You ask for much, my lady."

"I don't believe I do, Captain," she said politely. "I merely took you for an honourable sort. If I am mistaken, by all means… keep Rufio here with you."

* * *

A hiss and murmur began to rumble amongst the people around them at that. Tinkerbelle let out an impressed gasp from where she stood behind the old pirate. Peter merely watched on with an impassive expression- like he very much wanted to say something, but like it would all have to wait for another time.

Captain Hook was silent for only a moment, evaluating what the girl was asking of him.

"Well, now," he said. "You're a spirited one, aren't you? Alright, then. I shall ask politely for something of my own. Your name?"

"Wendy," she said, not missing a beat. "Now, your response to my own request?"

"Not so fast, now," Hook said gently. "Wendy. A pretty name. It suits you."

"Enough," Peter interrupted, glaring at the two of them. "We came here because your servant informed us that you wanted to talk to _me_. So talk, Captain. Or I will take back Rufio by force."

"Servant?" Hook said, glancing at Tinkerbelle. "I may be a pirate, but I am no master to a servant. Tinkerbelle is a member of my crew. We're family- so watch your tongue when you degrade her around me."

"What are you going to do? Kill me?" Peter chuckled. "You'd never get close enough to try."

"And yet you felt the need to bring all your Boys with you to my ship," Hook remarked. "Not to mention the lovely Wendy."

"You're not exactly on your own here," Peter gestured to the crew of growling pirates standing behind Hook, all with their hands on the hilts of weapons on their belts, staring down each and every Lost Boy.

"No, I'm not," Hook said. "Very well, Pan. Down to business. I want to make a deal with you, in exchange for the safe return of Rufio."

Peter quirked an eyebrow, listening intently. "And what is it you would have me do for you in return?"

"Give me passage off this island," Hook stated, very plainly and clearly. "You hold the power to open up a portal anywhere you wish- I have seen you do it. I want you to give your word that, when the time comes that I ask for it, myself, my ship, and my crew will be given safe passage into the realm of the Enchanted Forest."

"And what business might you have there?"

"That is none of your concern, is it?" Hook said darkly. "But, if you refuse- well. Mister Smee will have to crush young Rufio's throat."

Peter clenched his jaw. "No deal."

* * *

Tootles clawed at the ground from where he was crushed under the pirate's foot to turn his head, looking pleadingly at Peter.

"But_ Rufio_," he cried out.

"Yes, Pan," Hook said, "think about Rufio. Are you really going to let him die over this? I'd be out of your way. My crew and I- we'd be gone. Surely you'd like that?"

"Gone for how long?" Peter demanded.

"Does it matter?" Wendy said, unable to contain herself. "Take the damn deal, won't you?"

"Be quiet, Wendy," Peter said coldly, without looking at her. "This doesn't concern you."

"On the contrary," Hook said, "I think you should listen to her."

"This is between you and me," he retorted.

"It might've been," Hook allowed, "but not anymore. You brought her here. And so… Peter… " he spoke very slowly, as though weighing something up in his head. He wasn't looking at Peter anymore, but at Wendy. "I will offer you another deal. A second arrangement for which I would happily exchange Rufio."

"Oh?" Peter said tiredly. "And what is that?"

"Her." Hook raised a finger, pointing it straight at Wendy where she stood, unwavering.

* * *

"What?" Wendy said, not following.

"What?" Peter repeated, voice dangerously calm.

"_Wendy_," Hook elaborated. "I realise you have little regard for her- so why not? I'll be happy to allow Rufio to go with you, in exchange for Wendy joining my Crew."

"You want me in your crew?" Wendy said, flattered almost in spite of herself.

"You've got the makings of a good pirate, love," Hook told her with a lopsided smile. "And you're a girl who managed to come to Neverland. Chances are you'd be able to help me journey to another realm. You'd certainly be more reliable than Pan and his bloody portal, anyway."

"No," Peter said, so sharply that even Tootles stopped struggling in surprise.

"What did you say, Pan?"

"I said 'no'," Peter said, pronouncing each word very slowly, as though he were speaking to a baby. "Would you like me to spell it for you?"

"I think it's not your decision to make," Wendy said, surprising even herself. The game, the bet, her plan- suddenly all of it was replaced in her mind with the image of herself, wearing leather and bearing a sword, sailing the seas with an attractive pirate and his motley crew. "I think I'm the one being traded, so I'm the one who gets to chose. And I think I want Rufio to be set free."

Hook grinned, stepping forwards to shake her hand-

And then Peter was in front of her, his hand slamming down on Hook's before he even touched Wendy.

"Except the pirate asked _me_, Wendy," he spat. "And I refuse to make deals with pirates. So you are not going anywhere. Now," he hissed fiercely to Hook, "you will give Rufio back to me."

"Or?" Hook said, and a moment later, his face was contorted with pain, as the Shadow, from out of nowhere, suddenly appeared behind him, shoving a smoking hand inside him.

"Or," Peter said, his own face contorted too- but in rage, not pain, "_I will rip your Shadow from your body, and I will kill every pirate and every fairy on this deck."_

* * *

_What did you think of Hook's interactions with Wendy? Let me know in a review? :D. _

_Next chapter will be more Peter/Wendy oriented ;)_


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Okay, so you guys are the best! Thank you so much for the reviews/follows/favourites- they all make me so happy :)_

_Anyway, as promised, here is the Peter/Wendy-centric chapter. _

* * *

The whoops and victory cries of the Lost Boys almost drowned out the fast beating of the drums as the fire grew, the flames flickering in the colours of their success: red, orange, black, blue, white. The colours of Peter Pan's eyes when he wanted something. He wanted to take Rufio back from Captain Hook on that ship, and so, with his Shadow holding Hook still to prevent him from moving, that was exactly what he'd done. Wendy had not seen Peter fight before- and now she had, and she had never seen any like it. He moved so quickly and ferociously that surely he can't have been completely human. There were fifteen pirates on that ship, and Peter overcame each one of them with a single blow each- some with even less. By the time he reached Mister Smee, the pirate dropped Rufio on the deck and fell to his own knees, his mouth shaking too much to beg for mercy. Felix and Tootles had lifted Rufio up, and Peter had bid farewell to the defeated Captain. He transported them all back to the clearing, to commence the bonfire, and to celebrate. Rufio was on his feet already, having a grand old time with the rest of the boys around the fire. Peter, despite having called for the celebrations, was nowhere to be seen.

Wendy stood aside from the rest, still trying to process everything that had just transpired. She knew now never to be surprised by anything she witnessed in Neverland- and yet in the short space of that very day, she had been told of magical pipes, encountered a fairy named Tinkerbelle, and been offered a life of piracy by a devilishly handsome man with a hook on one hand- only to be stolen back away by the boy who wanted to get rid of her so desperately. If she was back with Ty, she thought, this was the kind of day she would end with a drink or two. Or three.

"Won't you come join the party, Wendy?" Rufio called, beckoning her over. He grinned. "Tootles told me how you tried to bargain with Hook to save me."

Tootles blushed, nodding. "That was…brave of you," he stammered. "Thanks."

"What can I say? I love threatening pirates," she smiled back at them, too exhausted to make it a very wide one. "But it was Peter who got you back."

Tootles and Rufio shared a look, and Wendy frowned.

"What is it?" she demanded. "You're both looking at each other like you're thinking the same thing- what?"

"Nothing, Wendy," Tootles said. "I just… Peter hasn't been that angry in a long time."

"Well, I imagine, when one's Lost Boy is kidnapped, one has cause to be angry," Wendy shrugged.

Rufio hesitated, shaking his head. "No, Wendy-lady. You don't understand. This isn't the first time one of us has been taken by the pirates. Or anyone, really. Usually he talks to Hook- comes to an understanding."

"He let Hook keep one of us, once!" Tootles blurted out, and Rufio brought his fingers to his lips warningly, indicating that they should lower their voices.

Wendy was stunned. "He let Hook keep one of you?" she whispered. "But why-"

"Wendy." It was Felix. He had noticed the trio huddled beside the party, and approached them quietly until he was directly behind her. Wendy turned around, and for the first time since she'd arrived, she saw Felix had his hood down, allowing her to properly see his face. His hair was blond and messy, he had a scar across his cheek, and his lips were twisted into what almost looked like a smile. He extended his hand to her unexpectedly, and she just stared at it for a moment, confused until he elaborated. "Care to properly join the celebrations and dance with me?"

"You want to dance with me?" she said suspiciously. She wasn't an idiot- and she certainly hadn't missed the poison looks he had been giving her since she'd arrived. If he wanted to dance, she knew, it would be more of a dance contest than a duet.

"It occurred to me that we might have gotten off on the wrong foot," he said, the attempt at a smile still there. "You were brave tonight. The Lost Ones value bravery. So yes, I think you should dance with me."

"That's kind of you," Wendy wasn't buying it- but she saw no need to say it. "But I'm afraid I don't know how to dance." She glanced him up and down and smirked. "Unless of course, you're talking about a different kind of dancing."

_"Dance with me," Daniel had said, but the curl of his lip, and his hands all over her, said something else. _

She had quickly discovered that every dance could be mastered. Every dance must be led. And if she could only ensure that she was that master, that leader- well, then she could control her partner perfectly.

Felix, not as oblivious as she had taken him for, turned red, his smile vanishing. "I don't know what you're referring to. But what kind of girl doesn't know how to dance?"

"I think, Felix, the question we should be asking, is what kind of girl wants to be a _pirate_?" Peter was back- and wearing a loose white tunic instead of his usual attire. The weapons he usually carried were no longer jammed across his belt- not that he needed them when he had his magic. It was the scowl he was wearing that Wendy found herself most concerned about.

"The kind of girl who appreciates leather-bound honour."

"And yet you saw that pirate take Rufio, like a _coward_," he said.

"He would have let him go."

"No," Peter shook his head. "He would not have let him go, Wendy. He would have traded him. Tell me, what is so honourable about that?"

Wendy just shook her head. "Everything is honourable about being given the choice."

A shadow fell over Peter's face as he stepped towards her, but instead of arguing, he reached his hand out towards her.

"I think it's time somebody taught you how to dance," he said, and he led her closer to the fire, turning to face her. "Put your hand on my shoulder."

* * *

"What?"

"Left or right, either will do," he added impatiently. She paused for a moment before rolling her eyes and doing as he asked.

"And the other hand?" She asked, humouring him.

His right hand found her left one, and his fingers slipped through hers. "Just like this," he murmured. The boys were dancing around them, not paying much attention. They were too caught up in their own rhythms.

"Are you sure this is how it goes?" Wendy half-joked. "It seems none of the others are dancing quite like this."

"Are you going to listen to me, Wendy Darling?" he said, not paying her question any mind. "I'm going to need you to step a bit closer."

"That's what they all say," she said, slightly uneasy- not because she was uncomfortable with their proximity, but because this was Peter Pan. And, while he was by no means being kind, or, god forbid, romantic, he was not being horrible- and that made her more apprehensive than anything else.

He sighed, placing his free hand on her waist and shifting her closer when she didn't move.

"Step back with your right foot, then to the side with your left," he said. She tilted her head, letting him know that she was confused by the whole thing, but she did as he said, nevertheless. With every step she took backwards, he would step forwards. She was so taken aback by it that she almost stumbled a few times, but he would tighten his grip on her waist, stopping her from properly tripping over. The whole time, he would not stop looking at her- and while, from a distance, she was able to smirk to herself, glad for his attention, up this close, she found she was unable to feel so smug- even unable to look at him. Her eyes darted from side to side, as they passed different boys, circling around the fire. She looked at her feet, and his. Anything but his eyes.

Suddenly, the pressure of his hand on her waist was gone, and she thought perhaps that he meant to trip her over, but instead, he raised their joined hands, spinning her under them. The sudden movement made her propel forwards, and her free hand ended up against his chest, keeping her steady.

He very nearly smiled. "Almost. Hand on the_ shoulder_." She scowled, returning her hand to his shoulder with more force than entirely necessary. "Better," he said, undeterred. "Do you really not know how to dance, Wendy Darling?" There were tiny flames in his eyes, reflections of the fire that warmed her skin as they danced closer.

"I'm surprised that you do," she replied. "And I thought I told you not to call me Darling."

"You did," he admitted. "You did not tell me why. Is _Darling_ not a term of endearment?"

"It is," Wendy said. "And terms of endearment are patronising. I do not wish to be patronised by you."

"By me?" he noted her choice of words. "Would it be alright to be patronised by somebody else?"

"Of course not."

"And yet you specified that _I _should not call you Darling," he mused.

Wendy sighed. "Interpret what you will, Peter. My name is Wendy, and I wish to be called it."

"Very well," he spun her again, and this time she spun so quickly that the fire and the boys and Peter all blended together in her eyes, her dizziness making her breathless. "Wendy." His lips were very close to her ears when he said her name, voice slow and steady. Then he drew back, his eyes narrowed as though something had displeased him.

"What is it this time?" she said, although she did not much care.

"You're bleeding," he noted, and she glanced at her arms, realising that he was right. Some of the wounds from the blood-sucking leeches that had attacked her earlier had begun to bleed again, scarlet drops making a trail down her arm.

"Whose fault is that?" she said accusingly, knowing full well that he was about to make some proud comment about how brilliant his plan to lure her into that retched leech-infested lagoon was. But, as it happens, that was not what he did. Instead, the troubled look did not go away, and he raised his hand from her skin so that his fingers just barely skimmed the surface of her arms, following the trail all the way down her arm. Her gaze followed it too, and she gasped out loud at what she saw. As his fingers passed by, the wounds would heal- so quickly that it was like they weren't there to begin with. Their faint stinging was gone, and even the blood that they left disappeared under his hands.

* * *

"You…" she didn't quite know what to say. Something nice, probably- but that was never going to happen, and so she settled for something sarcastic instead. "Using magic to heal your opponents? Gosh, Peter, you're on the verge of winning our bet. Really, you're coming across as quite terrifying over here."

"The parasites didn't succeed in scaring you- there's no need for the wounds to remain. Ugly, you know." He said stiffly.

"As is Rufio's shirt," she gestured at her excuse for a dress. "But I don't suppose you can magic up a real dress."

Peter just raised his eyebrows at her.

"Seriously? And yet you've made me borrow shirts from your friends-"

"I did offer you my own assistance, if you recall," he reminded her, laughing at her as she glared at him.

"Come on- you get a change of clothes for tonight, and I don't? That's not fair, Peter."

"And we all know how much you value 'fairness'," he said, mouth forming a hard line as he alluded the events earlier on the pirate ship. Albeit reluctantly, he raised his free hand over her, closing his eyes. Sure enough, when she looked down, Rufio's shirt was gone in favour of a dark green dress- much like Tinkerbelle's. It was tight and a little itchy, but it was clean and new, and completely took her by surprise. Now, she thought, was definitely the time to thank him. It was only right.

And yet,

"Careful Peter. I'm starting to think you're going soft."

Well. Close enough.

"You're thinking whatever I want you to think," he corrected her, and for a moment she worried that perhaps she was. He drew her back towards him then, returning his hand to her waist. He glanced over her new attire for a moment- but it was a moment that did not go unseen by Wendy.

"Better?"

"I don't see why I must have an opinion," he answered curtly, looking away hastily. Wendy chuckled, but when he asked why, she just shook her head, letting it go.

"You do not think yourself important," he said suddenly, and she was surprised enough by his words that she looked directly at him as they began to move again. She wondered if the Lost Boys were listening to their conversation- but then, she did not really care regardless.

"What?"

"You do not think yourself important," he repeated. "That is why you wanted me to shoot the arrow at you. It's why you were reckless enough to bargain with Captain Hook."

She pursed her lips for a moment, quiet. Then, "are you asking me, or are you telling me?"

"I am asking you to confirm or deny a statement."

"Deny." She said simply, and she spun under his arm, pulling back to him automatically, hand falling onto his back. She could feel his breath on her neck, and it was warm- although perhaps it was the heat of the fire that she felt instead. She was quite dizzy still, and was not quite sure of anything that she was feeling.

"Oh?" he said. "Then tell me. Why."

"I think myself mortal," she told him, after deciding not to lie through her teeth. "I think that there are so many ways for one to die, every day, and what is the point of living if you are forever afraid of dying? I want to have fun in life and in death. So you see," she was closer to him now than she had ever been before, "I adored being shot at by you. And I adored the thought of becoming a pirate today. Just as I adored playing the same games in my world. Standing in front of a train- standing for longer than all the others. To die would be an awfully big adventure, you see." She knew that perhaps, in order for her plan to properly work, she should not have told him as much as she did- but then she saw his face, and she realised that it was working as well as she could have hoped, for he was looking at her the way she was sure she had looked at the mermaids the first time she had ever seen them- the terrifying creatures that called out to her. Honesty- that was Peter Pan's mermaid- beckoning him out towards her, making him wonder.

"If you think yourself mortal," he said unevenly, "then why come to Neverland?"

Wendy did not answer. At this point, she was so tired and giddy that she did not know where the drumming was coming from- nor the whooping cheers that echoed around her, nor the warm hand on her waist.

She closed her eyes for a moment, but it only took a moment for her body to stop whirling. She blinked at Peter, wondering what he was doing as he reached behind him, and she flinched, readying herself to leap out of the way of another arrow, or a trap- some means of scaring her. Instead, he retrieved his pipes. She stepped back and watched him, waiting as he raised the pipes to his lips.

Then something most fascinating happened. The moment he blew into the delicate instrument, the Lost Boys each let out a wild exclamation, a sigh, a whoop of laughter- and they began to dance in circles, faster and with more enthusiasm than they had before, never stopping, growing faster and faster as Peter played more. And yet Wendy, for all she strained her ears, could hear nothing of the sort.

But the drums were still beating, and the boys' energy was contagious, and so she allowed herself to be swept away in the crowd, Rufio clutching one hand and Tootles holding the other as they pranced in a circle, each person to a different song- Wendy to no music at all. They pranced and sung and laughed for the longest of times.

Later, just before she closed her eyes, the drumming stopped. The hand was back on her waist. It laid her down to sleep, and she did so peacefully. For the first time in a long time.

* * *

_Ta-daa! Please do let me know what you thought of this chapter by leaving a review? I would appreciate it so much :)_


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

* * *

_A/N: sorry it's been so long since my last update- I've had a rude amount of exams so I had to postpone writing a bit. I actually cannot believe how many of you are following this story, thank you so much! Right, enough babbling. Here it is! Hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing._

* * *

Neverland may have been a place of eternal youth, but it was not a place of eternal energy- so Wendy discovered when she woke up the next morning, her whole body taking up the length of a collapsed tree trunk with an itchy blanket thrown across her. She had no recollection of how she'd ended up there, of course- all her memories of the previous night were scattered, with vivid moments of it coming back to her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. _A fairy with tear-stained cheeks. A pirate with a leather coat and a smile. An unconscious Rufio. Felix's hand held out towards her. Peter's breath on her neck. A song she couldn't hear._

She rolled herself ungracefully off the log, wincing as her neck ached- the consequence of sleeping on something as solid as a tree trunk. She felt light, as though she ought to still be sleeping, wafting around in a dreamland. Getting to sleep may have been easy, but waking up, as ever, was not.

Faithfully, the Lost Boys loud banter drifted towards her, leading her to their location, just behind where she lay.

"Good morning," she mumbled to them as she approached, and those of the boys who saw her waved, grinning.

"Wendy!" Tootles said, delighted. "We were waiting for you to wake up. Fancy playing a game with us?"

"Not target practice," another boy added hastily. "But something like hide and seek?"

"You can be on my team!" Rufio offered.

"That's not fair," someone else complained. "I want Wendy on my team."

Rufio drew out his dagger, as any reasonable child would. "Well, then. Shall we fight for her?"

The boy- Nibs, Wendy reminded herself- drew his own weapon happily enough. "Prepare to lose, Rufio."

Rufio just laughed. Wendy stood back, watching them in bemusement. "My oh my. Two boys fighting over me- and I've only just woken up."

Nibs grinned, turning to bow politely to her- something which Rufio used to his advantage, taking a swing at Nibs with his fist. Nibs stepped back in shock, scowling at Rufio and flipping his dagger in his hand, letting out a loud bellow and charging at Rufio- who promptly ran in a circle, hiding behind Wendy as Nibs trailed him. The rest of them, catching on to what was happening, began a chant.

_"Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight, fight-"_

They were getting louder and louder until suddenly, for some reason, they weren't anymore. The boys, who had been on their feet, pounding their fists in their hands and egging Rufio and Nibs both on, fell to their knees, dropping the chant as quickly as it had begun. Rufio and Nibs grew less ferocious towards one another- Rufio finally standing still and facing Nibs, and Nibs making an absolutely terrible and obvious stab at Rufio- which he easily blocked. Puzzled, Wendy glanced over her shoulder. Peter had arrived. The memories of the previous night hit her then, and she was caught between wanting to look away very quickly, and wanting to smirk at him, forcing him to meet her gaze. She settled for a simple nod in his direction.

"Peter," Nibs said, sounding cheerful, "you're back! We were just fighting- we want Wendy to play hide and seek with us."

"Do you?" Peter said.

"I hope that's alright, Pan," Rufio added. Wendy shifted her gaze to the rest of the boys, and, all at once, she realised that they all bore that same look: cheerful, but cautious. Always cautious. And they were always like that- whenever Peter was around.

She remembered preparing for the bonfire the previous day, everyone lazing about, at ease, laughing. She remembered how they had leapt into action the minute Peter had appeared. She thought about the way Felix had looked, walking back to tell Pan that Rufio was missing- anxious, careful, worried. She had thought that he had been worried about Rufio. Perhaps he had been worried about himself. She remembered how Tootles had lowered his voice when he'd told her about the boy who Pan had let Hook keep. They were, every one of them, afraid of Peter Pan, she concluded, and oh, what a bizzare conclusion it was.

"You can play all the games you like," Peter replied, patting him on the back, and Wendy saw Rufio visibly sigh with relief. Watching them now, it was so clear. Peter may have told them that there were no rules in Neverland, but there was a leader. There was Peter Pan. She wondered if he knew it.

* * *

As she pondered this new discovery, she found herself staring into the forest- and she noticed something. A fluttering coming from the branches of a tree just to the side. Upon closer inspection, she realised that the source of the sound was a pair of wings- not those of a butterfly, or a bird, mind you, but those of a fairy.

Tinkerbelle.

Sure enough, the green fairy glanced down, and, noticing Wendy's stare, fell backwards, half-hiding herself behind the tree with a look of upmost horror.

She knitted her eyebrows together, giving the fairy a questioning look.

Tinkerbelle started moving her mouth then, and Wendy thought at first she might be muttering a spell, but then she started to move her mouth slower, and she could just make out three distinctive words:

_Don't tell Pan. _

Wendy glances sideways at Peter, but he was occupied, talking to Rufio now- no doubt telling him to be more careful when collecting firewood in the future. She glanced back at Tinkerbelle, giving her a short, reassuring nod. Tinkerbelle grinned at her- and, after a moment, she mouthed something else:

_Can you come here? _

Wendy only stopped to think about it for a moment. In all honesty, after the previous night she had no desire to find herself in a conversation with Peter Pan- nor did she particularly wish to play with the Lost Boys- what with her head still echoing drums from the night before. As subtly as she could, she nodded, and, making sure that nobody was watching her, began to tread in Tinkerbelle's direction.

* * *

After Wendy had wandered far enough away from the camp that she could no longer hear the Lost Boys' chatter, Tinkerbelle stepped out from behind a large, stooping leaf, smiling timidly at Wendy.

"Thank you," she said. "For not telling him I was there."

'Him'. There were a great number of Lost Boys at the camp, but there was only one person whom Tinkerbelle was talking about- and there was no doubt as to who.

"No problem," Wendy said, trying to prevent herself, as she had last time they had spoken, from pushing the fairy too much for information. Yet, she was desperate to find out: what exactly had transpired that caused Peter to resent her so? "So," she tested the waters, "what was it that you were doing up in that tree there? Surely it would be more comfortable to just walk in."

"It would be, if I were welcome," Tinkerbelle replied. Then, very quickly, she added, "I am not here to spy on you for Captain Hook, if that's what you think!"

"Honestly, the thought hadn't crossed my mind," Wendy told her. She frowned a little. "But if he didn't ask you, then why were you there? I am not asking for Pan, by the way," she added with a smile.

"I know you're not," Tinkerbelle said. "I must admit, I had my doubts, but…" she grinned, "you were so brave on the pirate ship. Talking to the Captain like that- and standing up to Pan."

"Not that it worked," she said, somewhat bitterly. "Peter handled it himself in the end. I do hope he didn't hurt you."

"I was fine," Tinkerbelle said airily. "And yes, he did handle it, didn't he? He always does. Not always quite like _that_, mind you." Wendy remembered Tootles and Rufio by the fire the night before, faces burdened with the same troubled thoughts- rather like the one Tinkerbelle wore now.

"Like _that_?"

"That angry," Tink elaborated. "He's not often that angry- or if he is, he doesn't show it." She got that look again, then- the far-off look, the biting lip. She had seen him angry before, Wendy thought. She had been on the receiving end. "I don't know why I was there, Wendy. Well- I do, but- I don't know why I bother." She sighed.

"You- uh- you don't have to tell me," Wendy said awkwardly, but Tink just shook her head.

"No, no, it's quite alright," she said. "I am not going to cry again. I just… I miss it," she blurted out.

"The Camp?" Wendy said slowly, trying to piece things together.

"There was a time when I was as welcome in that camp as anyone else. I was a friend to the boys. I was a friend to Peter Pan."

"Some friend he is," Wendy said. "He was awful to you on the ship. Hook was right, you know. I know that he is a pirate, and Peter isn't terribly fond of him to say the least, but I fail to see what is so bad about the pirate."

"Hook is kind," Tinkerbelle nodded. "He is kind to me. Kinder than Peter ever was. But I miss it. Whatever it was- the_ lack_ of kindness, the games, the way that we would all laugh- as a team. We would play all day, and I would use magic to make them fly. I felt like I was a child there. That's how you're supposed to feel in Neverland. Like a child. I don't feel like that anymore." Her head was low, and her tiny hands were curled at her sides as she spoke.

"Look…if you want to come back, you don't have to ask permission," Wendy said. "Look at me. Pan didn't ever want me to return- let alone to be here in the first place. But here I am. Why don't you do the same?"

Tinkerbelle looked at her like she was absolutely mad. "That's kind of you, Wendy- but I could never do that. Too much has happened…" she hesitated. "No one ever comes to Neverland without Peter's permission, it is true. But no one ever leaves without it, either. What I did…" she shook her head, shuddering at the very memory, and Wendy leaned forward, as enthralled as she was concerned. "Wendy, I helped a Lost Boy escape from Neverland," her voice was very low, very solemn. "Against Pan's will."

"You did?" Wendy said, impressed more than anything else. "How? Who?"

"I don't suppose you would know him," Tinkerbelle said. "He arrived after your first visit- if I recall correctly. I was away on business at the time- sent off to work amongst the mermaids. But when I returned he was there. That child. He cost me everything." She glanced up at the sky, as though simultaneously praying for the boy, and cursing him. "His name was Baelfire."

* * *

_BAELFIREEEEEE._

_All reviewing/following/favouriting shennanigans are greatly appreciated! _


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

_Hi! I'm really sorry it's been so long since I updated! I haven't had internet access for the past week (that was fun! *sarcasm*) so I couldn't upload anything- but enough excuses. Here you go!_

* * *

Wendy could not contain her shock any more than she could her raw gratitude at finally hearing his name spoken after all this time.

"Bae," she whispered hollowly, a smile forming at her lips. "Baelfire- you know of him?"

"_You_ know him?" Tinkerbelle returned the question, surprised.  
"He… he came here because of me," she said numbly. "To save me. It was a trade. He came here in my place because… Peter was looking for boys. I came here thinking I would find him. But he is gone." She looked incredulously at Tinkerbelle. "You helped him leave?"

Tink nodded, looking as enlightened as Wendy felt. "It makes so much sense now," she breathed, "Wendy, Baelfire was desperate to return for someone. He wouldn't tell me who, lest Pan should overhear a name- but he spoke constantly of going back to a place called London. To a family."

"He… he did?"

He hadn't forgotten her. He hadn't been angry. He had tried to come back. Baelfire had tried to come back to her. Her eyes were stinging, and she looked determinedly towards the sun, keeping her eyes dry. She would not cry. Not here- not on Peter's island.

"I didn't realise you knew him," Tinkerbelle said gently. "Was he your brother?"

Wendy, rather than explaining that, well, technically, Baelfire was a stranger she'd found lurking in her kitchen, just nodded- because Bae _was_ her family. She had only wanted him to believe it too. _And he had_. Oh, if he could only see her family now. Her father moved away, her mother with her brothers- her brothers, never talking to her. He had gone to save her family from magic. Whatever would he say if he knew that, in the end, it was not magic that had destroyed them, but the harshness of reality? _Oh, Baelfire. I'm sorry. _

"What happened to him?" she asked. "Please, I have to know."

Tinkerbelle only paused to lead Wendy to a boulder, taking a seat atop it before she began to speak.

"Most of the boys that come to Neverland come willingly. They come first in their dreams, and then, when they believe enough, the Shadow comes to them and brings them here. They are happy here," she explained. "Baelfire was not like those boys. He tried to escape first- Hook told me he spent some time on the Jolly Roger. But the Lost Boys found him eventually."

"What did they to do him?" She didn't quite know if she wanted to hear the answer.

"They just wanted him to be one of them," Tinkerbelle said. "But he wasn't. He didn't believe like they did. The magic that delighted them horrified him. He wouldn't speak to me for a long time because of my magic. He kept saying that magic had destroyed his family- that he could never build a new one here. When some of the other boys began to feel the same, it got complicated." Her face was grim. "Baelfire refused to take part in some of the more…dangerous games that they played. He encouraged others to do the same. It was Felix who reported him to Peter in the end."

Wendy froze, now desperately not wanting to hear any more. If Peter had hurt Bae- god, if he had even hurt him, she would march into that camp and shove his own poisoned arrow through his throat, bet be damned.

"Peter didn't hurt him," Tinkerbelle said, as though reading her mind. "He didn't even threaten to, really. He told Baelfire that he would give him another chance, to be one of the boys. That was when he came to me- told me of the family he had left behind," she smiled sadly. "He told me that he very much wanted to get back to them. And he was kind to me, too. When he asked me for my help, he didn't do it for a deal or for a game. I wanted to help him, and so I did. I broke the rules, and I flew him out of Neverland myself."

"You can do that?" Wendy exclaimed.

"Not anymore." She shivered. "When Peter discovered that Baelfire was gone…that I had gone behind his back… he got angry."

"He cast you out," Wendy said blankly, and Tinkerbelle inclined her head.

"He had protected me, before that. He is the most powerful person on this island- nobody could ever get near me if I didn't want them to. And _everyone _was after me- for fairy dust, mainly. I never supposed that was the only reason he kept me around, too. He was always calling on me to help him track someone. A magical heart- a believer of some sort." She shrugged. "But I had no protection once he banished me. I tried to hide, but it was only a matter of time before the pirates found me. Hook was kind to me, at least. He still is. But I am a Lost Girl," she confessed. "I… at least, that is how I feel. "

Wendy straightened up then, looking Tinkerbelle in the eye. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"I…can't," she said, and Wendy opened her mouth to argue. "I know what you're going to say- that I don't need permission to go back. But when I say that I miss it, and that I feel like one of them- I do not mean that I should ever go back to that again. It was dangerous. It wasn't healthy. I was nothing," she said simply. "Nothing at all to him- or any of them. I'm more respected by a bunch of pirates." She snorted. "How odd."

Wendy sighed, staring into the forest with empty eyes. "And I left Baelfire to all that. He never wanted any of this, you know. I did. I was the one who wanted to fly- to see the magical land where nobody gets any older. He came here for me, and then he went back for me. And I wasn't there to meet him." She was furious- but at nobody but herself. Her jaw was clenched as she spoke, as were her fists. Tinkerbelle laid a hand on her shoulder lightly.

"You mustn't feel bad. Baelfire would forgive you, you know," she added wistfully. "He cared for you. He would understand." The way she said 'he' was a mix of contempt and sorrow.

Wendy turned to Tinkerbelle, a thought coming to her so suddenly and strongly that she ended up saying it out loud before she could stop herself:

"Are you in love with Peter?"

* * *

The frozen look on Tinkerbelle's face was enough to make Wendy simultaneously regret asking and want an answer even more. Her cheeks were very white, mouth set in a tight line.

"Am I what?"

"Peter Pan? Are you in love with him?" Wendy said, knowing full well that she was testing the fairy- but her newfound discovery about Bae had shaken her, and she didn't much care for social politeness at the moment.

"I heard the question," Tinkerbelle muttered. She looked at her feet. "How embarrassing that you knew to ask."

Wendy leaned forward, shocked, because- well, this was Peter Pan, and having feelings for him… why, that must be a strange thing indeed.

"Is that a yes?"

"It is not," Tinkerbelle rose her chin. "But… nor is it a 'no'." She sighed. "Am I in love with him? Perhaps I once was. But not in the way you might think."

"How many ways are there to be in love with someone?" Wendy asked cynically.

"A great many, actually." She sounded so sad that Wendy felt very glad that she could not relate to her- and then she felt bad for it. "I used to love him almost entirely- but from a distance. He never gave me any indication that anything could ever… he treated me as he treated his Lost Boys, if not even more distantly. Still I thought he was brilliant. I defended him- I would gladly defend him to anyone. I did whatever he asked simply because he asked it of me. I thought that counted as something." She sniffed, but went on, determined. "I was wrong. I was wrong to have felt that- because feeling like that always comes with expectations. Even if you never voice them- even if you don't think it will happen. Some part of me expected, at least, that I would be valuable to him. That he would forgive me for Bae. That was part of why I did it, you see. I had been in Neverland for so long… I thought that surely, after all this time, I might mean something to Peter. So I tested him. And he won." Her voice was lifeless. "He always wins."

"I remember," Wendy said. "You told me… you said I needed to be sure why he wants me here."

Tinkerbelle just nodded, and for a moment the two were quiet, with nothing but the regular songs of the Neverland birds breaking the silence.

"I still feel it, Wendy," Tinkerbelle admitted. "But differently. Without expectations. Now I just wish… I wish I was still welcome here."

"Hey, I'd trade with you," Wendy said lightly, but Tinkerbelle didn't seem to cheer up at all. If anything, her frown set deeper in her forehead.

"That's right," she said. "You almost joined Hook's crew. Wendy, are you quite mad?"

"Perhaps I am," she said, untroubled. "But you said yourself that Captain Hook is kind. Besides, I'd always fancied pirates in stories when I was little."

"Do you _fancy_ Hook?" Tinkerbelle sat upright in a great hurry.

"I fancy his leather coat, I'll tell you that much," Wendy winked, but she shook her head. "It just seems such an exciting existence. Take what you want, give nothing in return, sail away with your crew, make your own rules. I would call myself Red Handed Jill, so named because of the blood of my enemies that-"

"_Wendy_!"

"Well, you asked," Wendy said unapologetically. She ducked her head, catching a lock of hair between her fingers, and she twisted it as she debated the logic of confiding in Tinkerbelle what she was about to confide in her. In the end, it came out all in a rush, with or without her permission.

"Tinkerbelle, the only reason I'm still in Neverland is that I made a bet with Peter."

Tinkerbelle's eyebrows shot up. "What?"

"Well, it was entirely his fault," she said defensively. "He made me out to be a frightened little girl who could never survive in Neverland."

"Oh, Wendy, you didn't!"

"I did," she said, a little proudly. "If he is able to scare me, then I will leave at once. If I can scare him- well, then," she grinned, "I can stay for so long as I wish."

"And how long," Tinkerbelle asked expressionlessly, "do you wish to stay?"

Wendy opened her mouth to answer, but there was nothing- no words waiting to be released at the tip of her tongue. Tink just nodded, understanding Wendy's silence better than she did herself.

Then, "you should go back to the Lost Boys. And I should go back to the Jolly Roger."

"I know," Wendy brushed the dirt off her dress, drawing herself to her feet. "Remember, if you ever want to swap-"

"You'll be the first to know," Tinkerbelle finished, with just the hint of a smile. It disappeared from her features almost as quickly as it had appeared, a frown setting in instead. "I hadn't noticed... your dress."

"I-" Wendy glanced down at herself. "Peter gave it to me."

Tinkerbelle gave a fleeting smile again. "It looks nice on you." She looked very much as though she wanted to say something else.

"What is it, Tink?" She asked warily.

"Nothing. I just…"Tinkerbelle looked at her, and the weight of her gaze- the intensity of it- had Wendy taken aback. "I hope that Peter wins your bet. Sooner rather than later." Before Wendy could say anything else, Tinkerbelle waved three fingers in her direction and left.

Wendy stood a little longer, more than a little rattled. The way Tinkerbelle said that she hoped Peter would win- it was the way that one said they wished you all the best. It was the way someone would tell you 'happy birthday', or 'thank you for being a friend'. Wendy was not fool enough to dismiss that. Wendy had a sharp perception of character- she'd had to, for a girl living alone on the streets can be taken advantage of, if she trusts the wrong people. So she knew, with some measure of accuracy, that Tinkerbelle really did mean her well. She was a fairy, as good and kind as she was now broken. Broken by Peter Pan, it would seem. And that should have been enough.

Years from that moment, she would wake up at night sweating and screaming and she would scold herself, because, god, it should have been _enough._ Enough to make her demand to return home- to make her run after Tinkerbelle, go to the pirates- anything. It was by no means her first mistake, for Wendy had made more mistakes than she count. But this was her first warning. The first chance she should have taken to turn on her heels and, for once, run away from the danger, not towards it.

But this was the Wendy who had stood in front of a dangerous boy with a poisoned arrow- who had bargained with the Captain of a pirate ship, who had run away from an empty house yet again.

It was not enough. Not for her. Not by a long shot.

* * *

"Where have you been then?"

Peter folded his arms across his chest, leaning against a tree and fighting to keep a disinterested tone. Truly, he had been wondering at her whereabouts for quite some time now. He had a bet to win, and today he'd been going to make a decent play at it- the vines that hung poison were sure to frighten Wendy- or, as was his more immediate objective- cause her to become very annoyed at him. Peter rather liked annoying Wendy. It meant that she would wear a frown, and she would put her hands on her hips, and she would look right at him with fire in her eyes. It meant that he could control her after all. Mostly, he didn't need reassurance of that- everybody wanted something, and he learned how to use it to turn those around him into puppets on strings, dancing upon his every command. The pirates loved the back-and-forth of their game, the Lost Boys wanted to feel at home and alive, and so they all fell into place. But just when he thought he had Wendy in the palm of his hand, she went and said something about death being an adventure. Despite everything she had the nerve to stand close to him, to whisper in his ear, to say something so nonsensical that it made perfect sense. Seeing her now, the dress he had conjured for her scattered in leaves, he could feel her lips shaping the words against his ear all over again- not that he'd ever let her know that.

"Oh, all over the place," she chimed, swinging her arms carelessly by her sides. She offered no more explanation than that. The problem, Peter realised, with asking questions as though you do not care for the answer, is that you are likely not to acquire an answer at all. He grimaced, wanting for a moment to demand to know, truly, where she had disappeared to. Hook's bloody ship came to mind, and his fingers curled together in distaste. If he learned that Hook had so much as spoken to Wendy since the previous night-

"I wish to speak to you about something," she said abruptly, a serious look taking hold of her. Her arms stopped swinging and she crossed them over her chest, mirroring his own position. He raised his eyebrows, still in the midst of debating whether or not to pursue an answer.

"Well, spit it out," he said, with his usual level of charm.

"I wish to renegotiate the terms of our deal."

That caught his attention. And if he had wanted to know where it was that she had been all day, well, now, he _needed_ to.

"Oh," he said, narrowing his eyes. "And tell me, whatever gave you the idea? Of course, it is about time that you have come to your senses and realised that you will never be able to beat me, but I was under the impression that you're too stubborn to give up on that mere basis. So what was it? Been talking to the pirates?" He snarled the last words. "Whatever Hook has told you-"

"Did I say anything about giving up?" Wendy interrupted shortly. "I don't wish to give up- indeed, I intend on winning. It is my prize that I wish to change."

"You no longer wish to stay in Neverland," he said expressionlessly. "If you win."

"Again, no," Wendy said. "Stop guessing. When I win," he smirked at the 'when', but let her finish, "I want to stay in Neverland- but not as a Lost One. As I am now."

"I'm afraid I don't understand," Peter said slowly. "You wish to stay? What is your objection to being a Lost One? What is the difference?"

"There's a big difference," she breathed. "I don't want to be one of your subjects. I don't want to be a Lost Girl. I want to be Wendy."

"Well, congratulations, then," he said, sarcasm colouring his tone. "You are Wendy. If you like, I suppose you can continue to be so. Really, I don't see the significance."

"You wouldn't," Wendy muttered.

"Especially considering you're not _going_ to win." He grinned as she took offence, huffing and shaking her head, moving to stalk past him. He stepped into her path, catching her arms with his own hands.

"Wait."

Wendy paused, glancing down in bewilderment at his hand at her elbow, then glancing at him with her eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation. Instead, she got something rather unexpected. Under her gaze, his features softened, his fingers tracing circles on her skin.

"Did you sleep well?" His voice was very soft.

"Did I-" Wendy said, wondering what on earth had gotten into him. "I suppose- yes. What's it to you?"

"Just a question, Wendy Darling," he said, running his hands down her arms and clasping both her hands in his.

"Why were you asking it?" she said, suddenly very aware that, were he to try to attack her now, she could not even hope to land a punch on him with his hands covering hers.

"Why, Wendy, because I am your host on this island," he said, pretending- or at least, she thought he was pretending- to take offense. "I only want to be sure that your stay here is a pleasant one."

To her relief, he grinned, drawing back and letting go of her entirely.

"And because," he said, as he started to turn away from her, "You won't be sleeping very well tonight at all."

With that, he spun away from her, ignoring her questions as she followed after him, suddenly gravely suspicious of exactly what he'd meant by that.

It took her until nightfall to work out what he meant, and by then, well- there was nothing she could do about it.

* * *

A/N: that's all for this chapter! Thank you so much to the people who have reviewed/followed/favourited this story- it's always so nice to know that people are actually reading it!

Also, not wanting to spoil anyone, but how great was that latest episode?


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

As it turned out, what it had meant was that Peter, predictably, hadn't had innocent intentions at all when he had grabbed Wendy by the arms that afternoon. In fact, his hands were coated in a kind of poisonous flower powder- a detail which, he told Wendy, she should have taken note of. But she hadn't, and so, it was only when the sky was dark, and some of the younger Lost Ones began to cry for their parents, that Wendy's shrieks of pain and irritation began to join them. The powder, Pan informed her as she suffered its effects, was excellent at making things very itchy, very uncomfortable, and creating impressively swollen rashes that would take just under three weeks to truly heal.

"You bastard," Wendy had growled at him as she scratched madly at her arms. "You absolute bastard-"

"Now, now, no need to be rude," Peter had chided her, the biggest of grins on his face. "There are children about, you know."

Wendy had responded in the only way appropriate: a stream of obscene and unthinkable combinations of curses, threats, and clenched fists. Peter Pan, at least, was true to his word. She did not sleep well that night. She did not sleep at all.

* * *

A great length of time passed before the traces of the last rash were beginning to fade. It was perplexing, the manner in which time expired in Neverland. Sometimes it felt like weeks passed before the sun rose; others, it seemed as though surely the night should have been longer. There was no knowing, truly, how long it took for them to heal, nor how long Wendy had been there. Despite being incredibly annoyed, Wendy had by no means been defeated by Peter Pan's attempts to frighten her. Meanwhile, she found her opportunity to make a play at frightening him when, one evening, he called Felix to him demanding to know why he kept compulsively making retching noises with his mouth (coughing), and a stabbing pain kept making his head hurt (headache). As it happened, Peter Pan was not used to being sick- and he did not like it one bit.

"This isn't supposed to happen in Neverland," he said fiercely from where he lay, his head resting on a tree stump as Felix spilled water in his eagerness to get it to Peter. Wendy, who had been watching the whole thing with an air of amusement, had knelt down beside him.

"What's the matter, Peter? Not much fun being a normal human, is it?"

Felix glared at her, apparently not appreciating her humour as he dropped the bucket, splashing a little water over her with the force of the fall.

"Normal humans," Peter spat, not looking at Felix, "People get sick in your world. Neverland is different. It's not normal. I'm not _normal._ This doesn't happen here. It's you," he went on, pointing at her wildly. "I know it's you. Since you got here-"

"Me?" she said. "Well, that's just ridiculous. I'm not even sick myself- I can't have given it to you."

"Given it to me?" Peter was appalled. "What, is that what you people do? Walk around handing about illnesses? Lunatics, the lot of you!"

"I couldn't agree more," Felix said sourly, sinking to his knees beside Pan. He did not look away from Wendy- and, while she would have liked to think that it was because of her radiant beauty that he stared at her with such intensity, she did not miss the mistrust in his eyes.

"That's not quite how it works," she said, and then it occurred to her, and she smiled at them both as sweetly as she possibly could. "Never fear, though. I know of a cure."

At that, Peter shot up, reaching to grab her by the shoulders and leaning forwards. He was feverish- his touch burning her skin, and a thin layer of sweat coated his face. "Tell me," he said. "If you know what's good for you, you'll tell me of the cure this instant."

"It's quite simple, really," she said. "All you must do to cure yourself of this illness is take your medicine."

"Medicine," Peter tested the word in his mouth. He let go of her shoulders, seeming to have decided that she wasn't withholding information at his expense. Surely, Wendy thought, he must have heard of medicine before, but his face remained blank, so she supposed that he hadn't. How long he must have been in Neverland, she realised, with a pang of something akin to pity.

Even Felix seemed more familiar with the term, for he gave Pan a reluctant nod.

Looking around for something sickly-looking, Wendy plucked an ugly boiling red flower from a plant nearby, its sap bubbling in its centre. It was ghastly, to say the least. Wendy had to hide her smile as she continued her ruse.

"Medicine," she repeated. "Absolutely dreadful stuff. Sticky, sweet- sour. You need to drink it all. You see, in order to get better, you must first endure something far worse. It is the only way to truly heal." She made her way back to his side, holding the flower in both hands as though it were something terribly important. Peter gulped, eyeing the thing with an air of undeniable disgust.

"Madness," he muttered. "Complete madness. Worse before you get better?" He shook his head. "Get that stuff away from me."

"Peter," Wendy said, playing kind. "It is the only way. Please do take it. Otherwise I fear you may remain ill for...well, who knows."

Felix leaned forward, searching her face well for signs of insincerity. She would not let him find any.

"I'm not even that ill," Peter complained, staggering to his feet as if to prove to her just how not-even-that-ill he was. He took one step and stumbled, winding up with his whole weight leaning against Wendy. Not quite managing not to laugh, Wendy set him upright, keeping on hand on his shoulder in case he should fall again- until Felix leapt to his feet, moving Peter's arm around his shoulders for balance. He- and Peter, for that matter- just glared at her- until a fit of coughing made glaring quite impractical. Once he'd finished coughing, Peter snatched up the flower from Wendy's hands, albeit reluctantly. He swallowed, taking in the off colour of the sap, and glanced up to Wendy.

"All of it?"

"I'm afraid so," she said, doing her best to sound sympathetic. He scowled down at the flower.

"Stupid," he growled. "Being sick is stupid. Medicine is-"

"Stupid?" She guessed.

"My sentiments exactly," he said. After another moment, he sighed, lifting the flower towards her. "A toast, then," he announced, catching her eye. "To _your _good health, Darling." He closed his eyes. He winced. He brought the flower to his lips.

"Pan, I wouldn't-" Felix began sharply, but it was too late.

* * *

All in one go, every drop of sap from that flower was gone. Peter's whole face was contorted, and as soon as he swallowed the medicine, he shuddered- dropping the flower at once and bounding towards the bucket of water Felix had brought him. He poured half of it down his throat, and the other half over his own head.

Wendy, of course, began to laugh. Quite loudly.

"What?" Felix snapped, turning on her. "What is it that you find so incredibly amusing?"

"You," she said easily, clapping her hands. "You, and him. Oh, Peter, you should have seen your face. Why, I would almost say you were frightened-"

"Never," Peter said darkly, water dripping from his hair onto his eyes, droplets falling like tears down his cheeks. He paused for a moment before a look of realisation came over him. "You," he said. "You meant to scare me." He looked at the flower, thrown on the ground, and then back at her- strangely, not as furious as Wendy had predicted he would be. "You made it up. Didn't you? About medicine."

At that, Felix shot her a look as foul as the sap itself- although she chose to ignore it.

Wendy saw no harm in confessing. She finished laughing to give her victory speech.

"I did," she said. "Well, technically, everything I said was true. Medicine is disgusting stuff. But that- what you just drank- that wasn't medicine. That won't do a thing to make you better. Such a shame." She grinned- until she noticed that Peter was wearing a grin of his very own.

"Oh, won't it?" he said. "And yet- I feel so much better. Do I not seem better to you, Wendy? More my usual, charming self?" he grinned and, confused, Wendy stepped towards him, holding the back of her hand against his forehead. It was impossible- so unfairly impossible- but it was also undeniable. His fever was gone.

"How-" she started, but Peter, needing, as usual, to gloat, began to answer her question before she could finish answering it.

"Wendy, Wendy, will you never learn?" he sang. "Neverland runs on belief. Tell a story about medicine, and medicine exists. Tell me that the sap of that wretched flower is medicine- that it will make me better- and it will be true." He shared a grin with Felix, who, once he had stopped looking murderously at Wendy, had been wearing the most snide of smiles.

"Because you believed me." So the lie had worked. She could at least be proud of that.

"Now, don't go thinking that you're clever for convincing me," Peter said. "I was not my usual self. Not thinking straight. Being ill really is-"

"Stupid," Wendy said again, still unable to believe it herself. "So I just...created medicine? I created an instant cure?"

"You did indeed," Peter confirmed, grinning. "I really do owe you thanks, Wendy." He swooped down, and before she could ask what he was doing, he was standing up again, facing her, the red flower balanced between his fingers. "Do accept this flower, as a token of my gratitude."

Within seconds, the flower was back on the ground- knocked by Wendy out of Peter's grip, and Peter's laughter filled the forest.

"Shut up."

* * *

More time passed. The game continued- back and forth attempts gone awry- itches and burns and poisons and tricks at every turn. None were successful- but that was not to say that they were not terribly good fun. Wendy, although sticking to her initial plan, found it was quite entertaining to deviate from it every once in a while to slip Peter an apple riddled with worms. Felix, of course, complicated matters. Since the business with the medicine, he was quite unwilling to leave Wendy alone in Pan's company, and so enacting her plans had become ever- more difficult.

Then, one particularly hot morning, something interrupted their game. More specifically, something fell from the sky. A new Lost Boy from the Shadow.

* * *

_Hi everyone! Thanks so much for reading! Pretty please review? :) _


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

_So I just wanted to say thank you to those of you who've favourited/followed/reviewed! I always love hearing what you think of each chapter, and I'm glad some of you found sick!Peter amusing :) . Now, time to meet the new kid!_

* * *

"Me name's Benjamin," he told them through mouthfuls of fruit as he sat amongst the boys- already happily one of the gang. Upon his unfortunate landing in a bush of poison berries, the boy had been retrieved and greeted. He wasn't the least bit surprised by Neverland. He'd been here before, he'd told them. Every night in his dreams, when he most longed for adventure. He had been thrilled when the Shadow finally came for him. "It's mighty good to meet ya, Peter." His accent was strong, although nobody could say for certain where he came from. He couldn't tell them himself. He didn't seem to be the brightest- though his eyes were quite bright indeed. Shining brown eyes, and a head of ruffled dark hair. His clothes suggested he came from a rich family. His etiquette suggested that he wasn't too involved in the business of socialising just yet.

"It's Pan to you," he replied, trying to ignore the ferocity with which the boy stuffed food into his mouth. "Listen, Benjamin, you're going to enjoy it here. There are no rules in Neverland- you can do whatever you want. Play all day."

"Sounds grand, dunnit?" he chortled. He nodded at Wendy, noticing her sat down between Peter and Rufio. "Me'lady," he winked. "I didn't know there'd be girls here."

"Just me, actually. Will you have a problem with that?" Wendy asked, and he turned crimson.

"Oh, no, me'lady. I didn't mean to imply-"

"It's quite alright," Wendy said, sparing him a smile.

"Enough of this," Felix said in a tired tone. "How about we take our new recruit out for a game?"

"I'm not quite done eatin', actually," he said, but Rufio had him by his elbow already, dragging him away. "Rightio, then!"

"That's the spirit, lad," Rufio said cheerfully. Nibs cheered, and the rest of the boys followed suit, running about chatting and deciding on a decent game to play.

Peter was about to join them when Wendy nudged him.  
"Why don't you like him?" she inquired.

"What?"

"_It's Pan to you," _she imitated. "What was that about? Everyone else calls you Peter."

"No, everyone else does not," he said. "The Lost Ones call me Pan more often than not. It's just what I ask them to do."

"I call you Peter," she noted. "Would you like me not to?"

He shook his head, and she frowned, tilting her head to the side. "Why not? If you insist that everyone else call you 'Pan', why may I call you Peter?"

"Isn't it you yourself who asked me not to call you by your last name?"

"It is," she said. "But I ask _everybody _to call me Wendy. You, on the other hand, ask everybody to call you Pan. Why not me?"

"Does there need to be a reason?" Peter said, annoyed. "Look, I'd love to stay and chat- but I have a game to get to, and a clueless imp to welcome into his new home."

"How eloquently put," Wendy murmured.

"Wasn't it?" He said. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Oh, by all means," she said. "Pan."

His eyes narrowed, and he opened and closed his mouth- deciding very quickly not to say whatever it was he had wanted to say. He twisted his mouth into a scowl.

"Until later, then. _Darling_."

His footsteps as he walked away were more like angry stomps- and Wendy, as ever, was left wondering why.

* * *

Over the next few days, Benjamin proved himself to be almost exactly what Peter had referred to him as: a bit of a clueless imp. Of course, one can be an endearing clueless imp. Tootles could probably be described as such- but he was so sweet that he was adored for it. Benjamin's luck was quite different. He'd tried to play hide and seek with the boys- and, upon promptly falling out of a tree when Felix came in his direction, stood completely still, unable to grasp the concept that the game only worked if he tried to hide away from the boys who came looking for him. He followed up all explanations of the game with a request for more food- and to see the lady again.

"She isn't a lady," Rufio explained to him. "She doesn't like to be called that."

"She's a lady aight," Benjamin said. "Just like my mama."

At that word, it seemed all the Lost Boys collectively gasped.

"We don't speak of mothers here," Felix warned him. "We have no need for them."

Benjamin shrugged. "Suit yerselves, then. If I can't see the lady, can I have some food now?"

Rufio was about to say something when Peter joined them at last, marching towards them with some measure of irritation in his stride.

"You can have anything you like here, Benjamin," he promised with all the sincerity in the world. He held out his hand, where, sure enough, a hearty sandwich now sat. Benjamin's eyes feasted upon it, stepping forwards greedily to take it.

"Can I see the lady?" he repeated between mouthfuls, devouring his food with astonishing enthusiasm.

"The _lady_?" Peter said delicately, crossing his arms.

"We've told him to call her Wendy, Pan," Nibs said. "He won't listen."

"He won't play hide and seek," Tootles added.

"He was talking about mothers," Felix supplied.

Benjamin finished his sandwich, swallowing hard as his eyes twitched from one Lost Boy to another.

"Is that so," Peter purred, crouching to face him directly.

"Wendy, then," Benjamin said uncomfortably. "Can I see Wendy?"

"Why?" Peter said shortly. "Why would you want to see a silly girl like her?"

"I don't think she's silly. She's very pretty," Benjamin replied- not seeming at all embarrassed to say it. "And I do think she might come to like me. Me mama told me one day I'd meet a pretty girl like her- and that I must make her come to like me."

There was a collective intake of breath at the mention of his 'mama', but the poor boy didn't seem to notice his mistake. While the Lost Ones had begun to mutter amongst themselves, Peter went very quiet, and very still.

"I'm afraid your mother told you wrong," he said. "You won't be making Wendy come to like you. And you won't be seeing her again on your own whim. She's busy- and you have a game to play."

"You said I could do anything I like here," Benjamin countered.

"Do you dare to challenge Peter Pan?" Felix said in a low voice. It seemed it was only then that the boy realised how much danger he was putting himself in. His eyes grew very wide.

"Oh- oh no, not at all," he said.

"I hope not," Peter said, a gleam in his eyes.

For the rest of the afternoon, he did the smart thing- shut his mouth and played the game. No talk of mothers, no talk of Wendy. The same could not be said for what he did, merely days later, as the Lost Ones took him hunting.

* * *

Benjamin hadn't been doing terribly. Even he was able to see it in time: play to Pan's good side, and you would do well indeed. So, misguided as it was, that was what he set out to do. When they played, he made sure to be within Pan's sight when he made an impressive move (a rare event in itself). He refrained from asking for extra food, and he was sure to be one of the first to volunteer when he wanted something done. Of course, he did end up talking to Wendy. Well, she talked to him first, so he assumed it was all fine. She was very friendly, he thought, and very pretty. Most of the time, he had the good sense not to speak about it. But then, he had his moments.

"That's a mighty pretty dress te be huntin' in, Wendy. Well, yer a mighty pretty girl te be huntin' at all!" He'd said it before anyone could stop him.

Wendy hid a laugh as she made her way into the clearing with a loaded bow, head down so that she missed Peter's glare at Benjamin.

"Benjamin, make yourself useful- get yourself some more arrows," he snapped before approaching Wendy, grabbing her wrist roughly. "And what are you doing here?"

"You know, I think I liked the way Benjamin put it better," she said. " 'pretty girl to be hunting at all'."

"Nonsense," Peter spat. "It's stupid to assume that one's appearance has anything to do with one's ability to shoot." He, of course, would no sooner deny that she was pretty than say that she was.

Wendy inclined her head. "Of course. Stupid, but well-meaning." She flicked her wrist, escaping his grasp. "But, to answer your question, Peter- well, I thought it would be obvious. I'm here to hunt."

"That's-" he began angrily,

"What?" she raised her eyebrows. "Don't tell me I'm not the best shot here- aside from, perhaps, you yourself. And I will not sit about the camp growing more bored by the second while you train up your new recruit."

"You'll be more bored hunting than you would at the camp," he said. "Benjamin can't shoot to save his life. We could be out all night trying to get him to take one decent shot."

"Truly, Peter, the confidence that you have in your Lost Ones is heart-warming," she said dryly.

"I've got plenty of confidence in my Lost Ones," he retorted. "That oaf of a boy is not one of them."

"Yet," she reminded him, and he groaned- just as Benjamin bounded back to them, red-faced, panting, and holding an uneven number of arrows in both hands, all with the points in different directions.

"Careful with that," Rufio said, alarmed, and he rushed to help him out.

It took them another few minutes to get ready to go- Benjamin huffing and puffing from the effort of movement slowed them down considerably, and his inability to draw back the bow correctly further added to the delay.

* * *

It soon became obvious that the Lost Boys were not used to such slow movements. They were used to leaping from one game to another, always alert, always running, always laughing, always ready. As they grew more and more restless with Benjamin, and, the more Benjamin stopped to shower Wendy with misguided attempts at compliments, Peter's temper grew shorter.

"Are you boys planning on shooting anything today?" Peter addressed the group as a whole- but his glare was for Benjamin alone.

Wendy cleared her throat. "And girls," she reminded him. Rufio spared her a grin. Felix just rolled his eyes, exasperated, and moved closer to Pan's side.

"We're trying. It would help if some of us would stop alerting the animals of our presence."

'Some' being, for the most part, Benjamin- although Tootles too had dropped his bow more than once, causing the deer nearby to dash deeper into the forest- out of their reach.

Peter, whose own bow had been strapped across his shoulder, reached around to release it, practicing aiming and pulling back strong with his left arm. "Well, you'd better hurry up," he turned his aim to Felix. "Or, I might just shoot you." He was joking- at least, it felt better to assume that he was. He lowered the weapon, glancing back at Wendy, who was trying not to look bored. "I told you," he said. "You ought to have stayed back."

"And miss all the excitement?" she said. "Never." Just as she spoke, the soft sound of a deer padding into a body of water beckoned them closer. Wendy's eyes lit up and Rufio signalled to her, telling her to go forward with him, bow at the ready. She nodded once, moving forwards more subtly than Peter would've thought she could.

The rest of them waited for Rufio and Wendy to indicate that it was safe to approach, and they each took cover behind a different tree, peering around to see their prey. It was only one deer, and there were so many of them that it was hardly fair. It was standing in the midst of a shallow pond, head down as it licked feverishly at the water there, paying them no mind as they each glanced at one another, every person daring the other to be the first one to shoot. It was at this point that Felix noticed Benjamin had taken interest in a bush of red berries. Muttering something quickly to Peter, Felix took Benjamin by the forearm.

_"You'll alert the deer," _he hissed, pulling the younger boy backwards, away from the rest of the group just as Rufio raised his bow, biting his lip in concentration.

Benjamin cried out in disappointment when the impact of an arrow hitting flesh sounded into the forest, making the Lost Ones cheer and whoop, as though it had been a long hard battle as opposed to a cowardly kill.

* * *

"I missed et!" he said.

"And yet, if you had stayed around making a fuss, we all would've missed it," Felix said, showing little sympathy for the new Lost Boy.

"I wanted tah shoot somethin'," he grumbled. At that, Peter, who had been making his way towards them, grinned.

"Well, Benjamin," he said, "that is a good sign indeed." He clapped a hand on his shoulder. "We may make a Lost Boy of you yet."

Eager to please, Benjamin waved his crossbow in the air, showing Peter that he had it all correctly loaded. His grin showed all his teeth. "I think I have an idea."

"Oh?" Peter inquired, and Benjamin crept backwards, crouching behind a bush and beckoning for Felix and Peter to crouch with him. Shifting his shoulders to take aim, his smile was sly as he nodded forwards. "Like me target, Pan?"

Knowing full well that the boy was trying to impress him, Peter suppressed the urge to laugh as he followed the line of the loaded bow- and froze.

Benjamin, face scrunched up in glee and thirst for approval, turned around to grin at Peter, not even looking as he let the arrow fly towards its target- towards Wendy.

* * *

_So, I hope no one actually likes Benjamin, because, as you may be able to predict, he's not exactly about to become a main character. _

_In fact, (don't read if you haven't seen the latest episode:) _

_On a scale of the Blue Fairy to Felix, how dead do you think Benjamin is gonna be next chapter? (I know, I know- too soon. Was there anyone who DIDN'T cry their eyes out last episode!?)_

_Anyway, thanks so much for reading this! I'm writing the next chapter now, and I'm really excited about what you guys are going to think of it! (Hint: it's quite Peter/Wendy oriented...again :P). _


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

_Hello guys! Thank you again, you continue to amaze me with such kind reviews. I'm quite excited for you to read this chapter- Peter's starting to act strange/not-as-horrible-as-usual! (Well, to Wendy, anyway.)_

* * *

_ I wanna take you somewhere so you know I care  
But it's so cold and I don't know where  
I brought you daffodils in a pretty string  
But they won't flower like they did last spring_

_-_Another Love, Tom Odell.

* * *

Peter shouted, wrenching the bow from Benjamin's hands seconds too late, and he had nothing to do but watch with the worst mixture of emotions as the arrow hurtled towards her-

And then Wendy took a step forward. It was a minuscule step, but it was enough. The arrow buried itself into the wood of a tree trunk just to her left by the smallest of margins. Startled, Wendy looked up, whirling around and quickly taking note of the arrow- and of Peter, who now stood holding the bow. She shook her head at him.

_"Nice try," _she mouthed across the distance. Realising that she must think he had fired the arrow at her in attempt to frighten her, Peter hesitated, suddenly overcome with the rather unreasonable urge to reassure her that it wasn't him- that he had tried to_ save_ her. But Rufio laid a hand on her shoulder and she walked away, helping the others to carry the deer's corpse away, and Peter made no move to follow her. He was good at prioritizing, and there was something that he needed to do, quite urgently, that surpassed any desire to talk to Wendy.

Deliberately turning to face Benjamin, Peter held the bow out horizontally in front of him. Then he barreled his knee forward, splitting the curve of the bow in two. Benjamin flinched at the sound, suddenly very alert and wide-eyed.

"Pan?" He said, and Felix frowned, taking half a step forward, almost as if he meant to defend Benjamin- but with one look from Peter, he stayed rooted to the spot.

"What," he said calmly, "was that, Benjamin?"

"I…" Benjamin was quite speechless. "Erm… I thought ye'd be happy. Ye keep telling me not to talk to 'er. That she's just a silly girl. I thought ye'd think it funny."

"You thought I would think it_ funny_," Peter repeated plainly. Benjamin stepped backwards, his hands up in surrender.

"Look, I'm sorry, aight?" he said. He looked at Felix for support, but he got none. "I won't do it again."

"Won't do it again?" Peter said, voice rising. "If you weren't a terrible shot you would have _killed_ her just now."

"I didn't want to kill 'er!" Benjamin said hotly. "I told ya before, didn't I? I think she's a pretty girl. And she's nice to me. But ye won't let me talk to her. You always talk about her like she's so much rubbish. I thought, why not?"

"Why not?" Peter repeated again, absolutely venomous. Then Benjamin did something that would have been brave, were it not so foolish.

"Yeah, 'why not'," he said, rounding on Peter. "Are ye actually going to answer? Because I'd like to know. You act like you hate her- you say that we can do anything here, us Lost Boys. You said yourself you might try shootin' him," he gestured at Felix, "so what's the bloody difference? Why do you care so much about _her?_"

"I don't," Peter tightened his jaw. His hands were shaking, quietly controlled rage curling them into fists. "And I don't have to answer to you. I don't answer to anyone."

"Because you're Peter Pan?" Benjamin was unimpressed. "I knew ya from my dreams. I knew ya to be more fun than this."

"Oh, I'm plenty fun," Peter chuckled. "Wouldn't you agree, Felix?"

"Indeed," Felix said on cue, eyes flickering between Benjamin and Peter.

"You see, my Lost Boys and I do have rather a lot of fun here. Your problem, Benjamin, is that you are not a Lost Boy." He snarled. "And you won't be one. Not ever."

* * *

Benjamin cried out, but the Shadow was there, at Pan's demand, before he could say another word. It was grabbing at him, catching his arm in its mist, dragging him upwards.

"Hey! No, don't do this!" he shouted as he rose higher, kicking his legs about in the air as though the Shadow was a creature that could be swayed off balance. "I don't want to go home! I don't want to grow up! Peter!"

"Pan," Felix said, eyes wide as he watched from afar. Lost Boys had been dismissed before. Exiled to remote corners of the island. Delivered like trash to the deck of the Jolly Roger. But Peter Pan was not one to return children to the real world- to grow up. Not when they so desperately did not want to. But one look at Peter's face told Felix enough to silence him. The resolve in his eyes- the bitter happiness at hearing the boy's pleas and ignoring them entirely- it was something that could not be reasoned with.

"It's Pan to you, Benjamin," Peter muttered under his breathe, and he raised a single hand in the air, a harsh wave that the boy, as he flew away, could not have missed. The raw cry that left the floating Benjamin's lips then made even Felix look at his feet wishing that ears could close as eyes could.

Peter, of course, kept both his eyes and ears wide open, a twisted smile affirming that he heard every last cry for help, drinking it all in, thriving off it the way that parents thrived off their children's laughter.

It was not a pleasant sight to behold: the screaming boy, the steel-handed Shadow taking him away; the loyal one standing with his hood up and his head down, and the leader, waving and smiling like a proper King. It was probably for the best that there was only one soul on Neverland who beheld it at all: a fairy in green hidden in the treetops, looking down and wondering whether this act made Peter Pan more of a monster than ever before- or more of a human.

* * *

Rufio was chasing Tootles around with a handful of deer guts when Peter and Felix returned from the forest. The rest of the boys were crowded around, shouting out support to either one of them. Some held various organs of their own, awaiting an opportunity to strike. Their usual charming behaviour.

"Peter! Peter, he's chasing me!" Tootles called out. Peter grinned at that, giving Rufio an encouraging wink before he spun on his heel, scanning near the fire, the carcus, the trees-

"Wendy's over there," Felix murmured to him. Peter glanced at him, surprised that he even knew who he was searching for, but sure enough, he followed the direction of Felix's gesture straight to her. She was watching the chase from something of a distance, washing her own hands clean of blood in a bucket with a small smile on her face.

"Don't like to get your hands dirty?" Peter suggested as he approached her. She looked up, not at all startled by his sudden appearance. It seemed she had come to expect it now.

"Who do you think started the food fight?" she retaliated somewhat smugly. "I'm bored of it now, and I thought I'd leave the rest of them to it." She rose to her feet, shaking her hands free of water. "I suppose I'll see you later."

"And where exactly are you going?" he asked.

"You know, I don't see how it's your business," she said sweetly. He scoffed, but, instead of standing in her way, he began to walk beside her.

"It's my business because I'm coming with you," he said. "I don't much fancy a food fight either. Besides, it's not wise for you to be wandering around the island on your own."

"Translation: if I see something scary on the island, you want to be around to witness my state of terror," she raised her eyebrows at him, daring him to contradict her. When he said nothing, she just sighed, glancing to his right. "And Felix too, I see. Fantastic. I get the two of you for company. Lucky me."

Peter glanced across at the Lost Boy, not having really taken note of his continuing presence until Wendy mentioned it. "You needn't accompany us, Felix," he said. "Go, join the others."

"That's quite alright," Felix said blandly. "I don't want to get blood on my clothes."

"We all know how important fashion is to you," Wendy teased.

Felix just huffed under his breath. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"I expect you'll both know it when you see it." She picked up the pace, half-running between the vines and trees that paved the way ahead. "Come on!"

Felix shot Peter a weary look, but Peter was not there to meet it. Looking after Wendy with an entertained look about him, he began to run after her. Felix sighed, grumbling to himself as he followed suit.

* * *

Running, it only took them a short time to reach it. At the mouth of a deep cave by the ocean's side, Wendy stopped, grinning in satisfaction at the sight of it as she turned to the two boys just behind her.

"Here it is," she said breathlessly, still smiling. Peter straightened up, taking in their location, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"When did you come here?"

"When I was exploring," she said easily, refraining from mentioning that Tinkerbelle had been exploring with her at the time. She slipped off her boots and dropped the pair of them carelessly on the ground. "Let's go."

Wendy turned around, starting to clamber to the mouth of the cave. It was dark at the entrance- so very dark- but she climbed further in eagerly, knowing what lay ahead. Knowing how perfectly beautiful it was. Peter was at her side now- Felix trailing a little behind them as he slipped over rocks, scowling at Wendy's back as he did. The ocean splashing on stones made it all quite slippery, harsh on bare feet. Wendy's own feet were bleeding too, shards of rock scraping her skin as she jumped from one to another blindly in the dark. She didn't care for the pain, but nor did she mind it.

"You saw a dark cave and you thought you'd like to wander around inside it?" Peter said.

"Naturally," was her reply. She looked at the roof of the cave- high above them, not far from where they now climbed. The stone roof was glowing- patterns of gold, blue and green tracing the ceiling, casting the most appealing of patterns all around them. Her smile grew impossibly wide. "Here." She stepped over the last slippery stone, and there it was, hidden away like the best kept secret in the world.

It was a cove, of sorts- deep in the cave, water from the ocean had pooled up, forming a kind of lake as clear as the sky in the day and surrounded by great structures of dry stone. In the water itself, at the very bottom of the pool, was the most magical part of all, for lining the base of it were scores and scores of coins- of jewels, necklaces, rings, vintage laces, old parchment and polished stones- every treasure you could imagine. It reflected everywhere, over the surfaces of the rocks surrounding it, on the cave's ceiling- lighting it up like a thousand stars all in different colours, twinkling just like the night's sky did. It was the most beautiful piece of Neverland that Wendy had ever seen. She had hardly believed her eyes when she had first saw it with Tinkerbelle, and she could hardly believe it now.

Peter caught up behind her, taking in the sight as well. Even Felix caught his breathe at the sight of it.

"What is this place?" Felix said.

"You haven't been here?" Wendy said, surprised. "It's beautiful."

"Of course it's beautiful," Peter said, staring at the roof of the cave at the golden patterns that moved with the water. "It's called the Treasure Cave."

A fitting name. Of course, Wendy did not know the story of it- how it had come to be. Peter thought it best not to tell it. Let her imagine that the cave had been born like this- shining and bright and wonderful, a secret of the island made for her to find. Let her imagine that it was magic. It would do her no good to know that this was pirate's treasure- stolen from Captain Hook a very long time ago and dumped in the depths of this cave, where he could never find it. It was a victory site, rich with spoils. But that was not to say that it could not also be breath-taking.

* * *

He glanced back down from the ceiling at the sound of a disturbance in the water. Sure enough, the surface of it was rippling, making way for Wendy as she slid into the pool.

"Are you just going to stand there?" she asked, a challenge in her tone, splashing water up at him before darting under it completely, submerging her entire body in the cool sea water. Even with her eyes closed under the water, she could feel the light reflected across her.

Half shaking his head in exasperation, Peter jumped down to the lower rocks, stepping into the water after her. It was deep, but not so deep that he could not touch the floor of it with his feet. Wendy was still under the water, eyes closed, jewels casting lines of light and unusual shapes over her- circles, hearts, squiggles and boxes- like her body was their empty canvas to paint on. The water turned scarlet where her bleeding feet passed through. Eyes softening, Peter made his way towards her, leaving a trail behind him as he came to face her when she emerged from the water, her hair soaking wet, water dribbling down her cheeks like tears. She blinked, registering his presence, and smiled.

"Hello," she said quietly.

"Hello yourself." He didn't think he had seen her like this before. Happy. Vulnerable- but not in such a way that she seemed weak. "You didn't tell me that you'd come here. I could have shown it to you."

"Well, _you_ didn't tell me that your island had a pool of jewelry," she smirked.

"Treasure," he corrected her.

"Otherwise known as jewelry," she laughed. He snorted, shaking his head.

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?"

"You like it." It was a statement, not a question. He paused for a moment, not knowing quite what to say to that. However, it didn't seem as though Wendy was awaiting a response. Very suddenly, he felt both her hands on his shoulders, pushing down, and in his surprise, he fell off balance, head falling under the water. He took his time resurfacing, listening to the strange sound of her laughter underwater for a while. When he burst through the surface of the lake, fixing her with an appalled scowl, Wendy was laughing still- but now she held something in her hands. A smooth black stone, tied to leather cord.

"Surprise," she said. She held it out to him, grinning.

"What's this?"

"Jewelry," she said. "For you." Her tone was patronising- but not quite patronising enough.

"A kiss," he said, and she just looked at him for a moment- first puzzled, and then pleasantly surprised.

_An acorn, small and new, in the palm of her hand._

_A kiss. At least, that is what she had told him it was called-_

The memory came back to her in a hazy rush, making her cheeks flush. She was glad for the relative darkness in the cave.

"A kiss," she agreed, and he caught her eye, a small smile tugging at his lips as he took it from her- and then a loud splash made them both look away. Felix cursed, growling something about having water in his nose, and he dragged his weight through the water to reach them. Wendy started; if she was being entirely honest, she had almost forgotten that Felix was there at all. Her cheeks had been flushed before- now, they were flaming.

* * *

"Jewelry or not, this is all most unpleasant to walk on," Felix said.

"Cry me a river," Wendy said. "You didn't have to come, you know. Either of you."

"Please," Felix said darkly. "After running around after that boy all day, even walking on rocks sounds fun."

At mention of Benjamin, Wendy frowned, that smile that had been carved into her face since they reached the cave vanishing for a moment.

"Benjamin," she said, "where is he? He didn't come back with you."

"Benjamin will not be bothering any of us again," Peter said smoothly. "That's all you need concern yourself with."

"What?" Wendy said sharply. "What does that mean?"

When Peter didn't seem inclined to answer, she turned to Felix.

"The boy is gone," was all he said, but it was enough. Knowing fully well that Felix had had nothing to do with it really, she glared at Peter.

"What did you do? Scratch that, what did _he_ do? He only wanted to be a Lost Boy, for god's sake!"

"He wasn't fit to be one of us," he said, angry at her for questioning him- and angry at Felix for mentioning Benjamin. "I suppose it's too much to ask you to leave well enough alone?"

"Far too much, I'm afraid," Wendy said. "What, is he- is he_ dead_?"

"Why do you care?" he hissed. "He was an oaf."

"Sure he was!" she cried. "But that doesn't mean he deserved to die, Pan!"

"_Don't_ call me that." His eyes flashed.

"_Why _not?" Frustrated, Wendy slammed her fist in the water, splashing his face. "And why don't you kill me then? It seems that's what you do when you dislike something someone does."

"I didn't kill him," Peter blurted out, catching her fists, willing her to listen to him.

"What did you say?" she said, eyes narrowed.

"I didn't kill Benjamin, Wendy."

Wendy hesitated, almost convinced, he had sounded so genuine. She glanced back at Felix for confirmation. Almost as though he wished it wasn't the case, Felix nodded.

"Benjamin is alive and well," he said. "Back at his home in your world."

Wendy let out a sigh of relief, unaware that she had been holding her breath. Her heart was racing, and she gazed down at the floor of old coins and pearl bracelets, not wanting to look at Felix or Peter.

"Oh."

Peter let go of her hands then, instead leaning in to brush a persistent drop of water from her cheek.

"You're still angry," he said calmly. "You think he should have stayed."

"I want to know what he did," she said. "Because as far as I can tell, you banished him for being a clumsy fool."

"Is there any better reason?" Peter said. Felix was staring at him; fixing him with a hardened look. Peter just shot him a look of his own, warning him not to tell Wendy anything else. He'd done enough damage.

"For you?" she said bitterly. "I think not."

"How scornful of you," Peter said. "Here." His hands were on her arms, and the water around them made it almost effortless to spin her so that she faced away from him.

"What?" she said, irritated. Of course she was irritated, he thought. Whenever was she not?

"Just close your eyes," he said gently. Slowly, he let his hands slide down her arms, into the water. He sunk to his knees then, squinting through the clear liquid, searching. He knew exactly what he was looking for.

* * *

Wendy didn't. She stood still, uncertain whether of or not to bolt- unsure of what on earth Peter was doing. She glanced across at Felix, but he had his back turned to the two of them and was examining piles of gold gathered on the rocks around them. Soon enough, she heard Peter stand up again behind her- felt his hand brush her hair over her shoulder so that it hung across her chest rather than her back, and she shivered compulsively at the warmth of his fingertips. She could almost feel his smirk.

"Can I open my eyes yet?" she asked, although she hadn't really kept them closed the whole time anyway.

"If you like," his voice was rough. Wendy blinked, taking in the bright colours reflected on the wall of stone before her. The stone was so wet that she could almost see her own reflection in it as well- and Peter's, behind her. She watched the wall, fascinated as she saw in it Peter lifting his hands around her, holding something in his hands. Glancing at her neck, she took in the thin silver chain of a necklace being slipped around her. Confounded, she turned around to face him, a questioning look on her face.

"What are you doing?" She was too stunned to take a commanding tone. She was standing very close to him, she realised. Sure, the pool wasn't the biggest body of water she'd ever seen- but it was big enough that it definitely wasn't necessary for her to be able to feel the heat of his skin; for her toes to touch his under the water as they stood. His eyelashes were very long, stuck together in the water, and his hands were still at the clasp of the necklace at the back of her neck.

"I'm not finished," he said, more softly than Peter Pan would normally say anything. More softly than Wendy knew what to do with. She heard a click, and he drew his hands back, satisfied. "There."

She glanced down at her chest, mouth half-open as she regarded the stone that sat there, hanging off the centre of the chain. It was blue- so many different colours of blue, all chasing each other around in circles to make a pattern- white at the top, almost green in the centre, and the darkest of blues at the bottom- the ocean and the sky condensed into a spherical crystal the size of an arrow head. "It's…"

"Beautiful? How original of you to say so," Peter's voice was snarky- but there was something about his eyes that wasn't. Green and blue and dark and light. For a moment, however short, Wendy didn't know whether it was his eyes or her crystal that she wanted to get lost in. "I thought I ought to give you a kiss back." At that, she peered down at his own chest. He still wore his usual green tunic- although, wet it looked more dark brown than anything. And, while the stone pendant wasn't visible under it, she didn't miss the leather cord of her own kiss hanging around his neck.

How bizarre, she thought. How really, truly astounding this all was. Unless, of course, the necklace was poisoned in some way. That had to be it. There had to be some explanation. And then it was obvious to her.

"You're trying to distract me," she accused him. "Tell me about Benjamin. Tell me what he did."

Peter sighed, looking away from her at once. When he spoke again, his voice was not nearly as gentle as it had been.

"So stubborn, as always." He groaned. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?"

" 'Everything' meaning 'the bet'?" she suggested. "Am I making our game too difficult for you, Peter?"

"No game is too difficult for me." He lifted one hand up, lightly tracing over the crystal with his smallest finger. "Do..." he swallowed, and if Wendy didn't know better, she might have said that he looked nervous. "Do you like it?" He had avoided her eyes when he asked, but as soon as the words left his mouth, his gaze was on her, studying her reaction.

_Bizarre. _It really was. So bizarre that she had no idea what to say.

"You're asking me for my opinion on a necklace?"

"It seems I am, Wendy. Will you hurry up and give it?" He persisted.

"I…" suddenly feeling profoundly exposed, she glimpsed at Felix, building a miniature tower of gold. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the pair of them. "It's pretty," she wound up saying; because, in all honesty, it was. But she would say nothing else, despite the sudden list of adjectives and emotions that instantly came to mind.

"I believe it's called an agate," Peter said, eyes never leaving her. "The crystal, that is."

"Well, if we ever have a Neverland-Useless-Trivia-Night, I want in on your team," she said uncomfortably. It was this cave, she decided. Making everything bright; numbing her skin in the cold; making everything in here look beautiful, even him. Making her feel ever so odd.

She needed to get out.

"I don't mean to interrupt," came Felix's surprisingly welcome drawl. "But if we don't get back to camp soon, there won't be any of that deer left."

"Not the deer! I helped find that thing," Wendy said with gusto, wading through the water and pulling herself onto a rock as quickly as she could. She didn't look at Peter as he waited until both she and Felix had already started making their way towards the Cave's exit before he followed.

Apart from the occasional curse in pain over slipping on sharp rocks, the three of them left Treasure Cave in silence.

* * *

_Soo, what did you think of this chapter/the change in Peter's behaviour? As I said, I'm pretty eager to hear what you think of this one, so please do review! :) _


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

_Here's the next chapter, guys! So, at this point I've almost finished up writing the fic, meaning I've got a few chapters ready to be uploaded whenever. I don't want to upload them all at once, so you can probably expect a chapter every one or two days from now on. (Of course, your lovely reviews always speed up the updates!) _

_I wanted to particularly thank Mind-Creator and ExuberantReader for their unbelievably kind words :')_

Today I'm not myself  
And you, you're someone else  
And all these rules don't fit  
And all that starts can quit

-Au Revoir, One Republic.

* * *

"I have to tell you about something," Wendy blurted out, head in her hands as she spoke to Tinkerbelle, who sat beside her on the branch, legs swinging rhythmically beneath it. Being friends with the local fairy certainly had its perks. Tinkerbelle knew the best trees to climb; places where you could see almost the whole island. From Skull Rock, to Hook's ship on the ocean, to the Lost Boys Camp, to the jagged rock walls Wendy had never been to. Besides, the day wasn't nearly so hot as it would have been had she spent it on the ground, uncovered by branch upon branch of wide leaves.

"Me first," Tink said, biting her lip. "Oh, Wendy- I don't know if it will even do you good to tell you, but… no, I must."

"You have my attention," Wendy said, frowning. "What's the matter, Tink?"

"No, no, no, you first," Tinkerbelle said decisively, nodding at Wendy.

"No fair!"

"Wendy! You seemed quite eager to tell me a moment ago," Tinkerbelle reminded her. "What is it?"

Wendy sighed. "Alright, then. Me first," she allowed. "You recall the Treasure Cave that you showed me the other day?"

"Of course. Why?"

"I…" Wendy took a deep breath. Saying it out loud would make it all the more confusing- all the more real, she knew. But it had to be done. "I went there again. But Peter insisted on coming with me- well, he and Felix. But… it was odd."

"How so?" Tinkerbelle said, leaning in intently. By way of answering, Wendy brought her hand up to the chain around her neck, stroking the pendant.

"He said it's a… a gate. Or something. He… gave it to me," she said. "It was strange. I expected perhaps it would be poisoned in some way. To frighten me, you know. But it's not."

"Pan _gave _that to you?"

"Like a gift," Wendy said. "He asked me if I liked it as though he actually cared for an answer. I don't know what kind of bribery this is- it seemed he was trying to distract me from asking questions about something, but surely that can't have been all-"

Tinkerbelle was very pale. "Oh, Wendy," she squeaked, "I wasn't sure of it before- but now… now I cannot believe that I wasn't. It's perfectly obvious."

"What is?" Wendy said impatiently. "What's so obvious?" Tinkerbelle turned on the branch so she faced Wendy directly.

"That necklace wasn't bribery. It really was a gift."

"That makes no sense," Wendy objected. "At all."

"It does," Tinkerbelle said gravely. "Because Peter Pan cares for you."

* * *

Wendy was silent for a fraction of a second before she started laughing. And once she started laughing, she couldn't stop.

"Tink," she spluttered, "don't take this the wrong way, but you can be such a _fairy _sometimes."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Tinkerbelle said shortly, apparently not appreciating being laughed at.

"It means," Wendy shook her head, grin still wide across her face, "that you see fairytales everywhere. You see caring where there is none. I'm afraid you're too desperately searching for happy endings, you can't see the reality. Tinkerbelle, Peter wants me off this island. I merely want to prove myself as not-a-coward. There is nothing more to it."

"Well, you're quick to deny it," Tinkerbelle said. "You're adamant to deny it, too. Is it really so hard to believe, Wendy?"

"Tinkerbelle, I still have scars from when he covered my arms with itching poison," she said, holding out her arm and pointing at the faded red marks for emphasis.

"You didn't see what I saw. He cares for you, Wendy. I know it."

"Why? What could you possibly have seen?" Wendy said dryly.

"I saw him," she said, "ordering the Shadow to escort a young boy off the island because he tried to shoot you."

"What?" Now that was news. Wendy tightened her grip on the branch, bracing herself for the story.

"It was right after that deer was shot. I- uh, I may have been watching the hunt… possibly under Hook's orders," she admitted, flushing. "Anyway, I saw the new boy being taken aside so as not to interfere with the hunt. He was complaining- saying something about how he'd missed out on the action. And then he aimed his bow at you. Trying to impress Pan, I think. He fired before anyone could say anything else. Anyway, Hook gave me a bit of pixie dust not long ago- thank god. I was able to use magic to make you move out of its way in time. The arrow just missed you. Surprisingly, the boy had a pretty good aim."

"You did that?" Wendy said, grateful, and also very much confused. "Strange. I do recall almost being shot- but I didn't feel as though I was under any kind of spell. I thought it was Peter who had tried to shoot me."

"You wouldn't have felt it- magic can be very subtle. Especially mine," Tinkerbelle said, a little smugly. "But no- it wasn't Peter. He grabbed the other boy's bow the moment after he fired it. Perhaps that is why you thought it was him."

"That…would make sense, I suppose," she said reluctantly. "That's what he was trying to distract me from, you know. At the Treasure Cave. I asked him what had become of Benjamin. He was the new Lost Boy. A clumsy old thing- but still. He would not tell me why he'd had to go."

"Now you know," Tinkerbelle said. "It was because that boy tried to kill you."

Wendy flinched. "I don't believe you. Benjamin? He was useless._ And_ he was besotted with me."

"So modest," Tinkerbelle mumbled. Wendy just shrugged.

"Well, he was! Followed me around calling me 'pretty' all the time! He wouldn't try to_ kill_ me." She felt oddly betrayed by the odd boy. "Damn, Benjamin. I thought we had something real."

Tinkerbelle laughed a little. "Well, it didn't sound as though he'd _wanted_ to try to kill you. I overheard the conversation he had with Pan- if you can call it that. He said that he thought Pan would think it was funny if he'd shot you. He didn't want to, but he thought it was what Pan would want. I suppose he figured it out earlier than the rest of us: the only way to get by on this island is to please Peter Pan." She shook her head. "But he was mistaken. Pan was furious."

"He… was?" Wendy had thought that the bizarre things would cease once she left that mysterious cave. But it seemed that the bizarre just kept coming.

"Wendy, I've rarely seen him so angry before," Tinkerbelle said. "he snapped the boy's bow- and when Benjamin accused Pan of caring about you- he. Well, he sent for the Shadow." She took a shaky breath. "It was awful, Wendy. This poor, silly boy was calling out, saying that he didn't want to grow up. Even that miserable subject of Pan's, Felix, looked like he wanted to help him. _I_ wanted to help him. But Pan just stood there."

"_That_ part sounds like him, at least," Wendy said. She was staring out at the Jolly Roger, moving at a steady pace across the ocean. She wondered where it could possibly be headed. Spend enough time in Neverland, and surely it would grow boring. She imagined that, then: imagined growing tired of it all. The deep forests, the hills of rock shard, the mermaids, the Treasure Cove.

"Wendy," Tinkerbelle said seriously, "you and I both know the reason he just stood there- the reason he sent him away- is that he has feelings for you, and he couldn't bear the thought that the boy might have hurt you."

"No," Wendy said unwaveringly. "No, you and I most definitely do _not_ know that."

"Wendy, I practically heard him admit it!" Tinkerbelle said, exasperated. "Besides, this isn't the first time he's become practically lethal in order to protect you! When you were on the Jolly Roger, and Hook tried to turn you into a bargaining chip for Rufio-"

"_No_." She said it with such ferocity, hands clenched so hard down on the branch that it shook a little. Tinkerbelle stopped talking, mouth agape as she gawked at Wendy.

"Listen, I understand that you're afraid to believe it- "she said, her voice less demanding now.

"I'm not _afraid_," Wendy spat the word like it was the worst of insults. "Look, I'll admit it was funny to consider at first. Very amusing. But it's simply not true. It's just ludicrous. Laughable. Hence my _laughter_. But that's it."

"Wendy, I didn't tell you what I told you because I thought it was a funny joke," Tinkerbelle said, gently, but firmly. "And- you're right, I'm a fairy- I've got an eye for these things. Just because I have a keen eye for them, it doesn't mean that I'm not right." She put a hand on Wendy's shoulder pleadingly. "I told you because _I _care about you. You're my friend, Wendy. My only friend, really. I don't want you walking around blind to this. I told you because you need to be careful. So please, please say that you'll listen to me."

Wendy sighed. Emotional speeches about love and friendship were so far from being her thing that she was quite out of her depth- but she couldn't deny that she was touched- nor could she deny the reality that Tinkerbelle was probably her only real friend, too. So she smiled and nodded.

"I'll listen to you," she allowed. "I might not believe you, but, well. I mean to say, you're my friend, too." It was not nearly as impressive as Tinkerbelle's speech, but it seemed to be enough. The other girl absolutely beamed.

"Oh, thank you!" she said, pulling Wendy into an unexpected hug before she started talking again, all-business. "Listen, if Pan cares about you, it means that you're safe- from everything except for him."

"Well, that's comforting. It's not as though he's the most powerful being on this island or anything," Wendy said sardonically.

"Well, exactly," Tinkerbelle said. "Which means that this bet of yours is on upmost importance from now on."

"Why?"

"Because," Tinkerbelle sighed, as if it should be apparent, "what are the terms of your agreement? If he wins, you leave. If you win, you stay. Well, you see the dilemma."

"Do I?" Wendy said, not following.

"He'll never let you win," Tinkerbelle elaborated. "He just wouldn't do that. But he won't really try to win, either. Because he doesn't want you to leave. He'd never _let _you."

"Given that I still don't believe for a second that he cares for me, I'm having trouble with the idea that _Peter Pan _might not want to win our bet." Wendy shook her head. "It makes no sense. It's not as though he's stopped trying to scare me."

"And what was his latest attempt? Itching poison?" Tinkerbelle sighed. "Come on, Wendy, do you think he's really trying? If he really wants to scare you, don't you think he would have tried something a little more intimidating?"

"I-" Wendy hesitated, not wanting to concede that Tinkerbelle might have a point. If she did, then that would mean that maybe she was right. Maybe Peter did care about her. What an odd thought! What a disturbing one. She thought of his eyes, soft and bright and colourful in the cave- and she decided hastily that thinking about his eyes was definitely not a good idea.

"Go on, then. I'll humour you. What should I do to escape my apparent predicament?" She said, snapping back to reality.

Tinkerbelle gave her a look- annoyed that she wasn't taking this as seriously as she should be, but pleased that she was at least playing along.

"You lie," she said simply. "You pretend that he's won. Next time he makes any attempt, however small, pretend that it worked. Pretend to be scared out of your mind."

"You do realise how humiliating that would be?" Wendy raised her eyebrows. "He'd never let me live it down. _I'd_ never let me live it down. I'm not pretending to be scared. Besides, you just said I'm your only friend. Well, you're mine, too, alright? I don't exactly want to go back to a world where I have none. And I don't want to leave you alone with a bunch of pirates and Lost Boys."

Tinkerbelle smiled a little, but she was frowning. For a moment, she was quiet, silently pondering a real solution to their problem. It didn't take her very long to find one, however ridiculous it was.

"I'll go with you."

* * *

"What?"

"You heard me!" Tinkerbelle said, with all the enthusiasm of a person with a new, fool-proof plan. "You lose the bet, Peter has no choice but to send you back with the Shadow, and I- I'll ask Hook for more pixie dust. I'll use it to make my wings stronger, and I'll grab hold of the Shadow as well. By the time Peter senses that I'm leaving Neverland with you, it should be too late for him to do anything about it. Besides, it's not as though he'd be determined to keep me here anyway."

"Tink," Wendy said. "Look… what are the odds that that would ever work, anyway? And it's all well and good to plan a great escape- but what the hell would the two of us do back in my world? Trust me, I lived there long enough to know that it's no kinder a place than this is. I'd sooner stay here. Why do you think I asked to stay to begin with? Anything- _anything_, is better than my world, Tinkerbelle."

"You never did tell me," Tinkerbelle muttered, "what it was that you wanted to get away from."

_John. Michael. A cheating mother. A heart-broken father. Boys who demanded everything of her. A friend who had demanded even more. Games that hurt her heart, but thrilled her even more. An empty house and a world of regret. A family that should have stayed together. _

"It doesn't matter," Wendy said. "What matters is- I can't go back. Thank you for offering to come with me, really. But I can't."

She thought perhaps that Tinkerbelle would get angry again. But she just nodded.

"If you change your mind," she said softly, "just tell me."

"Do you think that I am likely to change my mind?" she asked, curious more than anything.

"I think," Tinkerbelle said slowly, really thinking about the answer, "when you realise that I'm right- that he does care about you… you might."

"_When_," Wendy snorted. Then, "Tink… you used to care for Peter."

The fairy just inclined her head.

Wendy hesitated. "I don't understand. If you think that he cares for me, shouldn't you be- I don't know- challenging me to a fight to the death for his affections?"

Tinkerbelle's laughter was like chiming bells in the air as she shook her head. "Perhaps," she said. "But I won't be challenging you to mortal combat today."

"Because I would totally win?" Wendy suggested lightly.

"_Because_," Tinkerbelle said, "I am a fairy, not a wild moose. Because loving that boy is the worst thing that has ever happened to me, and I would take it back a thousand times if I could. And because loving him was an awful fate, Wendy. But to be loved by him- that, I fear, would be even worse." She smiled sadly.

Wendy closed her eyes, taking it all in. There was a sour taste in her mouth. She didn't believe Tinkerbelle. It made no sense, and besides, she didn't want it to. But more than that, she felt guilty. Guilty at the time she'd spent glossing over Peter's eyes in her mind- the way her fingers would touch her pendant every now and then reflexively.

"You have to go now, don't you?" Tinkerbelle guessed after neither of them had spoken for a long time.

Wendy nodded apologetically. "They might be wondering where I've disappeared to. Again."

"Nobody's asking questions, are they?" Tinkerbelle said anxiously. "I mean, no one suspects that you're meeting with me?"

"No," Wendy smiled reassuringly. "No one. Good bye, Tink."

"Good bye, Wendy."

Wendy swung her body down, hanging off the branch they had been sitting on by her hands. Her feet found balance on the branch below.

"And Tink?" Wendy added, before she let go and disappeared from the fairy's view. "Thank you. For saving me from that arrow. I owe you one."

"Oh," Tinkerbelle smiled. "You're most welcome."

* * *

It was rather a tedious climb down. Spotting for strong branches, avoiding the weak ones, ignoring blisters and splinters as they came. By the time she reached the bottom of the tree's trunk, Wendy was quite exhausted. Jumping to the ground from the lowest branch, she staggered to her feet, holding her hand critically out before her, tutting at the long shard of wood that had buried itself in her skin there. Overall, she was in no mood to be interrogated by Lost Boys.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Felix had other plans.

* * *

_Aand it's about to get interesting :P. Heads up: next chapter, the real drama begins._

_As always, I'd love to know what you think of this chapter :)_


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

* * *

_Thank you so much for your responses to that last chapter, guys :D they made my day. Okay, here it is: drama ahead. Also, moderate/mild coarse language warning._

Everything will change

Nothing stays the same

And nobody here's perfect

Oh but everyone's to blame

-In My Veins, Andrew Belle

(shout-out again to Pallavi for creating an awesome CS playlist which happens to work very well with this!)

* * *

"There you are," he said, stepping out to greet her from behind a neighbouring tree. "Pan's been looking for you." She started a little at his sudden appearance- not that she should have been surprised by it. Felix had a habit of being around when she would rather he wasn't.

"Well, congratulations," she said dryly. "You've found me."

"So I have," Felix mused. "Well, Wendy, you've put me in rather the awkward position here."

"I don't see how I have," she said, straightening up.

"Oh? Allow me to explain," Felix said, with an unpleasantly gleeful tone. "You see, Tinkerbelle is no friend of Pan's- and therefore no friend to any of us. I thought this was made quite clear to you upon your arrival. Yet here you are, sneaking away from a cosy chat with none other than the devilish fairy herself." Wendy caught her breath. Apparently the Lost Boys had not been as unobservant as she'd thought. Not all of them, anyway.

Felix smiled at her- ever so coldly. "You see my predicament now? I'd really rather not have to tell Pan that you've been making friendship bracelets and daisy chains with the enemy- but here you have given me no choice."

This wasn't good. This really, really wasn't good. If Peter found out that she and Tinkerbelle were friends, there was no knowing what he would do- and he'd already proven he had no objections to tormenting Tinkerbelle. Wendy couldn't let him go after her again.

"Wrong," she said, thinking fast. "You do have a choice. You always do. But you're so used to serving Pan it's become second nature to you, hasn't it? Don't you ever get bored of doing everything he says?"

"Don't you ever get bored of making a mess wherever you go?" he retorted. Wendy flinched, taken aback by the loathing in his voice.

"Ouch. Well, seeing as we're being honest with each other," she folded her arms, "maybe you can tell me why you're constantly following me around like an obsessed puppy. It's really quite irritating. Obviously, I would understand if you were infatuated with me, but-" she said it derisively, but Felix pounced on it, nonetheless.

"Infatuated with _you_?" he said incredulously. "This was never about _you_. Nothing ever was, don't you see? You're nothing! Why doesn't everyone see that? Why doesn't he see it?"

Never about _you. _

But it was about somebody.

_Why doesn't_ he_ see it? _

Wendy tilted her head, surveying Felix's expression. He was angry- face red, chest rising and falling quickly, fingers curled in. He was too passionate. Too emotional for this _not_ to be personal.

Wendy laughed softly, wondering why on earth she hadn't seen it before. There was something different about Felix, she'd known that from the beginning. Something that made him different from the other Lost Boys. Something that made him pale and anxious and angry and cold. Something that glued him to Pan's side, even when he wasn't ordered there.

"Good god," she whispered, a little sadly. "Is there anyone on this island whose life doesn't revolve around Peter Pan?"

He caught his breath just as he caught her meaning, a thin-lipped smile contorting his face.

"I have no idea what you mean," he hissed, recoiling from her like a frightened wild animal. But he did, and Wendy knew it.

"You hate me," Wendy said. "You've been out to get me since I arrived. Did you follow me to this tree? How long have you waited to find some excuse to point a blaming finger at me? And for what? So that Peter won't become more interested in our game than he will ever be in_ you_?"

She heard the slap that landed on her cheek before she felt its impact- like the snap of a branch in the trees. Unprepared for its force, she stumbled, hands out in front of her to stop herself from falling. She winced at the stinging that warmed her cheek, but she pulled herself up, facing Felix so that he could see exactly what he had done. He even looked a little guilty- but not enough so that it vanquished his fury.

"Never," he gasped, "say anything like that again."

Wendy, for the first time in a long time, was speechless. She cupped her slapped cheek in the palm of her hand, mouth still open in shock, and she stared at Felix, not sure of where this left them.

It was with a sinking heart, then, that she realised they were no longer alone.

* * *

"What's going on here?" Peter demanded, taking in Wendy's frozen expression- her injured cheek, and Felix's shaking hand. He went to Wendy at once, removing her hand from her face, taking in the red mark that was rapidly blooming there. He let out an angry noise at the sight of it, and he placed an arm around her shoulder as he turned to Felix- a sign: that she was under his protection.

"Care to explain, Felix?"

Felix grimaced, eyes lingering on Peter's arm around her, and Wendy thought of what Tinkerbelle had told her not a moment ago. Suddenly, she felt hot and itchy under his arm. She shrugged it off her in irritation, refusing to look at him. _It wasn't true. It couldn't be true._

"Yes," Felix cleared his throat. "I do. I have bad news, Pan. You see, Wendy here was just returning from meeting Tinkerbelle here. I have reason to believing she has been regularly conspiring with the fairy."

Wendy scoffed, practically seething with hot anger at Felix. Her heart was hammering as Peter turned to face her, eyeing her closely.

"What's this, Wendy?" he inquired. "Is there any truth in what Felix is saying?"

Wendy stared at him incredulously. As _if_ she would tell him the truth! Yet he was looking at her as though he thought that she would. Even worse- like it _wasn't_ true. Like Felix was lying to him- Felix, who looked at him like the god he thought he was. Felix, who had stood at his side for longer than Wendy could even guess.

"Pan," Felix spluttered, "of course she's not going to say it's true! She wants to save her own skin." She glared at Felix- even though, to be fair, he was completely correct.

"Forgive me if I don't take your word for it," Peter said heatedly, "after you slapped her."

"Are you- are you seriously angry at me for that?" he said, eyes wide.

"I've told you before- whilst the bet is in order you are not to interfere," he said. "You know what happens when you disobey the order."

"Have I lied to you?" Felix whispered dejectedly. "Have I ever, Pan?"

Peter did not answer. "Leave us, Felix. Make yourself useful. I believe Nibs has got himself stuck in a tree not far from here. Seek him out."

"Pan-"

"Felix," Peter said with an air of finality. "Leave us." He wasn't looking at him as he spoke- but Wendy was. As much as she hated Felix in that moment, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for him at the forlorn look on his face- as though it was he who had taken a slap to the face, and not her. His hood fell to cover his features as he walked away- tripping as he went, as clumsy as Wendy had ever seen him, each step heavy and without direction.

_Broken-hearted._

Yes, that was the word. She watched him go with blank eyes until she could no longer even hear his footsteps; just the slow, steady breathing of the boy who stood beside her still.

* * *

"Wendy." His voice was too kind for comfort.

"Why?" she said thickly. "Why did you send him away like that? Don't you believe him?"

"I don't understand," he said with a furrowed brow. "I expected you'd be pleased that I sent him away." There it was again; that tone of voice, that well-meaning question. It made Wendy shiver.

"Why does it matter if I'd be pleased or not?" she said. "I am on this island to be tormented- that's your job, isn't it? That's what you've been trying to do, every day since I got here!"

"Torment? Such a strong word," Peter said, and she shook her head vehemently.

"Nevertheless, that is exactly what you are trying to do to me," she said wildly. "Don't tell me I'm wrong." _Please don't. _Absent-mindedly, she wondered if Tinkerbelle was still here somewhere, listening. She hoped she was. Maybe then she would have the good sense to return to Hook's protection for a while- at least until they knew for certain that Peter was not going to go after her.

"As you wish," Peter bowed his head. He was probably just trying to be diplomatic. He probably didn't even mean it kindly. But Wendy was shaken from her conversation with Tinkerbelle, and, as strange and illogical as it was, every second that she was with him that he was not trying to hurt her in some way was making her incredibly on edge.

"No, not 'as you wish' anything! Don't- ugh. What's the matter with you?" she said, pulling her hair in frustration. He blinked at her, surprised.

"Me? What's the matter with _you_? You ought to be grateful I'm not taking Felix's accusations against you more seriously."

"Oughtn't I?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Peter narrowed his eyes. "Was Felix telling the truth?"

"If he was, do you really think I would tell you?" she cried.

"If you know what's good for you," his voice was low, "you would."

Wendy threw her hands up in the air, exasperated. "Alright, then. I'll tell you. Just as soon as you tell me why you sent Benjamin away."

"You've got to be joking," he said darkly. He didn't elaborate; and Wendy couldn't help but feel relieved for it. She didn't want to hear the answer- unless that answer was 'because I felt like it'. And that, she knew, made her a terrible person indeed.

"Where's Rufio?" she said, trying to regain her composure.

"I expect he's down by the sea at the minute," he replied- apparently attempting to do the same.

Wendy nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Pan." He did not correct her. Although there was much more than he wanted to shout at her- and much more that she longed to scream back, neither of them said anything else, allowing Wendy to slip peacefully down to the seaside, where, sure enough, Rufio was, running manically into the water with his spear waving in the air.

Wendy exhaled at the sight of him there. He, she knew, would not have run to Peter, had he been to one to spy her talking to Tinkerbelle. He was her friend- and that made a grand total of two. At the sight of her, he grinned, waving his free hand at her and beckoning her into the waves.

And she smiled. That was the thing about friends. However dreadful and confused one feels, one cannot help but smile in the presence of a good friend.

Of course, if Wendy had known then what the true consequences of the messy confrontation between herself, Peter, and Felix were to be, not even Rufio could have brought a smile to her face.

* * *

"_Tink_," Wendy hissed, unable to keep the nerves from her voice as she wandered through Neverland, looking up, down, around- all in vain. "_Tinkerbelle."_ It was very dark on the island- so much so that even Rufio had found it impossible to stay awake any longer. The Lost Boys had all retreated- to the soft branches of trees, to hammocks, to the solid ground- each snoring with open mouths. Felix had been nowhere to be seen- but then, Wendy had not really expected him to be. Apparently, Peter had. When Wendy and Rufio grew bored of playing in the waves and returned to the site, he was already there- demanding to know where Felix had gone- completely oblivious that perhaps his sending Felix away earlier had left more of a scar on the Lost Boy than he'd intended. He had been staring at her since she returned- but he had not approached her. It seemed that even Peter Pan didn't know what to say at this time. So they had eaten in silence until at last, even he grew tired and left- leaving her to go- searching for Tinkerbelle. Seeing Peter at the site had calmed her a little, for it surely meant that he had not gone hunting for Tinkerbelle. But her mind would not truly be at ease until she found her friend.

So, when she heard, at last, her own name called out in response, she began to sigh in relief. Too soon. Indeed, Wendy was half-way through her sentence before she found Tinkerbelle and stopped in horror.

"Oh, thank god! Where have you been? Listen, I don't think Peter will be coming after you, but-"

But.

But it didn't matter. Because there she was- curled in on herself against the stump of an old tree, skin pale and laced with sweat, hands pressed uselessly over a shoulder seeping blood from a wound that, in itself, was small- yet the dark veins that seemed to stem from its centre spoke of upmost urgency. Wendy had never seen it before, but Peter had told her enough that she knew exactly what this was- what evil had taken hold of the girl in front of her.

"Dreamshade," she uttered the name under her breath. Suddenly, she felt very light-headed. Her legs gave out from beneath her, and she crumbled- hands scrambling uselessly to Tinkerbelle's arms. "Let- let me see."

"Wendy," Tinkerbelle said weakly. She tried to take Wendy's hands, but Wendy shook her head.

"No, don't- don't try to talk," her voice was very thick. She prised Tinkerbelle's hands away from the cut at her shoulder. It was thin but deep- obviously no accidental brush against a thorn. No, this had been a very deliberate act. Wendy felt bile rising in the back of her throat. Blood was all that she could smell.

_How about that_, she thought hazily. _Fairies bleed, same us the rest of us. _

"Shit, Tink," she said coarsely. Her lip was shaking badly. Her whole body was. It took her a moment to realise that it was because she crying. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him." She grit her teeth, fighting against the sobs that wrenched themselves from her body.

"Wendy," Tinkerbelle said again, a little more firmly. She was wheezing, every word a struggle- but there was no missing her resolve. "It's okay."

"Okay?" she laughed without any humour. "Unless you're about to tell me that there's some cure- that there's a way I can help you-"

"Wendy, he didn't do this for the sake of killing me," Tinkerbelle interrupted, speaking with great difficulty. "He wants me to… fly you out of here. Out of Neverland."

"What?" Wendy shook her head, disoriented. "Why would he-" she gasped. "So you were wrong. He does want me out of here. So much so that he couldn't even try to win the damn bet."

"No," Tinkerbelle coughed, leaning onto her side as she spat blood on the ground. Wendy winced, rubbing her back- for that was as much use as she could be right now, as much as she hated it. Tinkerbelle rolled back her, continuing her story with determination. "Not Pan. It was the other boy- the Lost One."

"Felix?" Wendy mumbled, and Tinkerbelle nodded confirmation.

"I don't know what happened to make him so angry. All I know is he showed up at the Jolly Roger- not long after we spoke, Wendy. He… he demanded that I come with him." She swallowed hard. "Hook said no- at first. He was even prepared to fight for me. But Felix said that if I refused him, Pan would have the mermaids kill the entire crew this night- myself included. That is was to be me alone, or all of us."

"Oh, no, Tink," Wendy breathed, hand clasped over her mouth as she listened.

"When he took me from the ship- that was when he… cut me with that poisoned thorn," she croaked. "Not to kill me- but as… as motivation. He told me to find you, Wendy. To fly you from Neverland." She reached around her neck, where a gold chain lay. Attached was a tiny glass bottle, filled with what looked to Wendy rather like green sand. "Pixie dust. Felix gave it to me. With the extra power, I'd be able to make the journey. If I do it, he'll give me a cure. If I don't- I. Well, I'll be killed."

"I'm so sorry, Tink," Wendy whispered. "This happened to you because of me." She held out her hands to her. "When you're ready," she said. "We'll go."

She may have been in terribly bad shape, but not so bad that she wasn't perfectly capable of fixing Wendy with a fiercely judgmental look.

"That's it? You're just going to give up? Go home?" she said. "Did you hear the same story I did?"

"I heard it," Wendy said tightly. "I heard everything. And I can't let you die for this stupid game, Tink- I won't."

Tinkerbelle shook her head. "No, no, you're missing it. Wendy- it doesn't make sense."

"None of it does!"

"Pan cares for you," Tinkerbelle continued, so factually that Wendy wanted to slap her, in spite of her weakened state. "It doesn't make sense that he would order you off the island."

"Peter doesn't make sense," Wendy said hastily. "He's insane. But you didn't see him earlier. He was mad at me, Tinkerbelle. And I've had enough of it. Not long ago you and I spoke of returning to my world together. You wanted me to go, anyway."

"You trust Felix?" Tinkerbelle tried instead. "Do you honestly think that he has access to a cure- never-mind that he would actually give it to me? There are no guarantees, Wendy. And I haven't forgotten what you said earlier."

"Well, I have, so you're going to have to remind me," Wendy said. Tinkerbelle had a point- there was no way of knowing that Felix would follow through with his promise. Somehow, that didn't make the situation any brighter.

"You told me that you hated that world, Wendy," Tinkerbelle said spiritedly. "That you would be alone there. If we're going to leave Neverland, I'm going with you- I won't leave you alone."

"Well, we've got a dilemma then," Wendy sniffed. "I won't leave you alone, either. And I won't let you die." Her mind was racing, frantically searching for answers- for any way out. She hesitated. "Tink- how long has Hook been on the island?"

"I- I don't quite know. A long while, I imagine."

Wendy nodded, hardly daring to have hope as she leapt to her feet feverishly, grabbing Tinkerbelle around the shoulders so that she too was standing.

"I'm going to take you somewhere safe," she told her, speaking very quickly, "alright? And then I'll go away. Get help. Maybe Hook will know of a cure."

"I- maybe," Tinkerbelle said. She didn't sound optimistic, but Wendy was too frantic to be put off by it. _The Treasure Cave, _she decided. It wasn't far from where they were- and it should be safe. Safer than Tinkerbelle had been lying on a tree stump, anyway.

"I'll be back," Wendy promised, once they'd arrived there and she had lain Tinkerbelle down across the largest, flat rock. The lights were all there, dancing across her poisoned skin- making it look not so bad after all. She took a deep breath, managing a fleeting smile. Tinkerbelle just closed her eyes, nodding- too drained now to do anything else. Wendy stood there a moment too long, nodding and smiling as tears streamed down her face. "Okay," she whispered, and she turned around, walking out of the cave. She shivered, and she didn't know if it was from the cold around her, or the cold feeling that was making itself at home inside of her. "Okay. Okay."

_Everything will be okay._

It's rarely a good idea to let a lie comfort you. But sometimes, the alternative is worse.

* * *

_#SaveTink :P. _

_Another dramatic-ish chapter next. Plus, Hook's back!_

_Do let me know what you think :) reviews are always appreciated! _


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

_Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews/favorites/follows :)._

_Also, to the guest who asked whether Wendy and Peter will end up together- well, you'll just have to wait and see ;-) thanks for your review!_

_Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it! :D_

I'm dying to catch my breath

Why don't I ever learn?

I've lost all my trust though I've surely tried

To turn it around

_-Within Temptation, All I Need_

* * *

On her second visit to the Treasure Cave, Wendy had decided that she quite liked the water. Now, arms aching from lapping tirelessly against a relentless current as she tried to propel herself towards the pirate ship, she came to the conclusion that she didn't. In fact, she hated it with quite a passion. She let out a groan of relief when she finally stopped- her hand hitting the wood of the ship, bringing her at last to her destination. She leaned against it for support, although it did her little good. Her whole body was burning from the effort of the swim, legs working to keep her head above the surface. She glanced around, but it seemed that, for all its perks, the Jolly Roger didn't have a ladder instalment on its side.

_Tinkerbelle._

Weary, yet spurred on by the drive of panic, she hammered her fist against the ship, calling out.

"Hook! Hook! Let me up." Wet fingers scraped along the ship, and she waited- struck with the sudden fear that nobody would hear her- that, despite everything, she would not even be able to climb aboard. She rapped her knuckles again, fear making each jab harder.

"Alright, what's this about?" Startled, she looked up, a grin breaking across her face. There, peering over the edge of the deck, was Captain Hook- taking in her rather helpless predicament in surprise.

"Hook!" she said, "help a girl up, won't you?"

"Wendy," he said, expression pleasant, but guarded nonetheless. "You don't look as though you're in any position to be making demands, love."

"I'm not," she replied. "So what will it be, then?" She didn't wait for him to ponder it. "It's about Tinkerbelle."

Hook straightened up, then, promptly turning his back on her and walking away. Wendy paused, shocked. She hadn't really thought about the possibility that getting Hook to speak to her might be difficult. She opened her mouth, ready to yell out an apology- god forbid, to beg, if that didn't work, although she hated to do either. Tinkerbelle would _not _die for her pride.

Thankfully, before she forced the words from her mouth, Hook was back- a thick rope bundled up in his hands.

"Heads up," he warned, feeding the end of it down to her. He may be a pirate, but Peter had been wrong about him. There was honour in piracy- a code of conduct of sorts. Hook, she sensed, wasn't the kind to leave a member of the crew behind.

* * *

It was cold aboard the Jolly Roger- wind making the sails sway in the dark. It bit at her skin, making her wet clothes cling to her, draining any warmth left away from her. Hook, upon pulling her up, had taken off his coat, offering it to her.

"You have a more dire need for it than I, darling," he'd said.

"So like a gentleman," Wendy said. "But I'm fine." On another occasion, she would have helped herself to some more banter with the handsome Captain- but it was through desperate circumstances that she found herself in his company to begin with. "I need to speak with you confidentially," she'd said, and Hook, while, of course, making an innuendo or two on his way, led her to his cabin, sweeping her inside before he closed the door, turning to her with a measure of urgency.

"You say that this concerns Tinkerbelle," he said. "Tell me, has Pan harmed her?"

Wendy hesitated, but she nodded. Felix had worked under Pan's orders, regardless of what Tinkerbelle had asserted.

"Dreamshade," she told him, and he froze at the word. "She's been poisoned. She may be dying." She felt her voice catch. "She told me that you have been on the island for a long while. If you know of anything- any kind of cure-"

Hook sucked in his breath. "Dreamshade," he repeated. For a pirate, he looked awfully pale. "Poor lass." He shook his head. "Sorry, love. There's nothing I can do."

"Nothing you can do, or nothing you will?" Wendy pushed. Hook had answers. She could see it in the way he'd gone still at the word 'dreamshade'- the way he had paled. He knew something. He had to.

"Look, Wendy." His eyes were heavy when he looked at her. "I truly wish I could help. I don't want to see her go. I didn't want to allow her to be taken today. But Pan owns this island. It would be… unwise to work against him on this matter."

"That means there is a way," she persisted, "to work against him, I mean?"

Hook's mouth curved into a smile. "Eager to undermine him, I see." He lifted her chin up towards him with two fingers, his gaze approving. "You know, if you'll take it, there's still a place for you aboard my ship."

"I may gladly take it," she said. "As soon as Tinkerbelle is safe. You said there's a way to counter the Dreamshade- and Tink's not getting any better, so tick tock."

But Hook, it appeared, was not listening. His brow was furrowed, eyes fixed at her chest. She was about to scold him for it when he realised that it was her necklace that he found so fascinating. He reached out, tracing the patterns on the stone lightly with his little finger.

"Where did you find this?" he said oddly.

"I didn't," she said. "Peter Pan gave it to me."

"He did, did he?" Hook said softly. "It belonged to her, you know. My Milah. We… were together, she and I. I thought I'd never see this again."

'Her', 'She'. Hook said it the way Felix had said 'he'. It seemed that everybody had somebody to talk about like that- with that soft voice that was weak and dangerous all at once.

"Oh," Wendy said awkwardly. "I- you can have it back-"

"No," Hook shook his head. "It's quite alright. Besides, it looks rather gorgeous on you."

"I didn't know," she said again uselessly.

"It's an agate, you know," Hook murmured, seemingly unable to take his eyes off it. "Symbolic of protection and all that. I got it for her so she would feel safer. Not exactly my bid, but she liked the superstitious stuff."

"Protection?" Wendy said, curious for a moment- but she snapped out of it. "Look, Captain-"

"Of course," Hook said abruptly, dropping his hand. "We have little time." He began to pace about the small cabin. "There is only one cure for Dreamshade on the island. But it comes at a price. If Tinkerbelle takes it, she can never leave Neverland so long as she lives." He recited it with a pained expression, but Wendy didn't have the time- or the heart- to ask why.

"But she will live," she said fiercely.

Hook inclined his head. "Aye, that she will. But it would be difficult to retrieve. Atop a hell of a climb of black rocks- there is a waterfall. It's hidden by vines. Pan, of course, can access it with ease- with magic," he said scornfully. "For someone like you or I, I'd imagine there'd be a fair bit of hacking at the vines with a sword before we even got close to it. But, in theory, it's there. Consume that water, and you're cured."

Wendy stared at him, suddenly taken with a desire to kiss him, hug him, and shake him hard all at once. Still, given that this was, strictly speaking, only their second meeting, she refrained from all three.

"You- there's a cure," she exhaled. She let out a whooping laugh. "There's a cure!"

"Love," Hook hesitated. He wasn't nearly as elated as she was. "I'm afraid I might not have stressed this enough: to seek out the cure against Pan's will is all but a death-wish."

"If you don't want to help me, don't," she said shortly. "Just lend me a sword for those vines, won't you? I'll be on my way."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Wendy," he said, sliding between her and the door. She paused, taking a step back and eyeing him cautiously. Surely he wasn't about to give her trouble? Surely he cared about Tinkerbelle enough to at least let her try?

"And why not?" She said, steel in her voice. Hook sighed.

"I was going to say: because it's too dangerous and you'll be dead in a heartbeat, but I don't suppose you'll even pretend to listen, will you?"

"Probably not," she said honestly.

Hook groaned, closing his eyes for a moment. "Have you even used a sword before?"

"I'm a fast learner," she said, unfazed. "Hand one over. It's a long swim as it is- and we're wasting time."

"Don't be dramatic," he said, moving towards the door.

"Don't you dare mock me," she hissed. "Tinkerbelle is _dying_."

"I wouldn't dream of it, love," Hook said sardonically. His face softened. "But if I'm going to give you a lift over to the bloody magical waterfall, I'm going to have to be at the helm of my ship." He grabbed the knob, giving her a grin. "Let it never be said that Captain Hook left a damsel in distress to solve her problems all on her own." His hand was at his belt, and it took Wendy a moment to realise that he had pulled the shorter of the two swords at his waist from it, offering it to her hilt-first.

"I'm not a damsel," Wendy said as she took it from him. "And I am certainly not in distress."

"Of course you're not," Hook said, swinging the door open and stepping back onto the deck, gesturing for Wendy to follow suit. "I was referring to Tinkerbelle. _You_ are a pirate, Wendy. Given time, you'll be a great one."

"Captain, you flatter me," Wendy smirked. The adrenaline of the moment- and the ecstasy of knowing that they were on their way to retrieve a cure- had put her in a very good mood indeed. "But surely there are rules about fraternising with your shipmates."

"Just one rule, love," Hook raised his eyebrows suggestively at her. "Fraternising is absolutely, completely, compulsory at all times."

Wendy chuckled under her breath as they made their way up the stairs, towards the wheel of the Jolly Roger-

"Well, we could watch for a while longer, but I'm sure you get the picture." A horribly familiar drawl came from behind them.

"I couldn't agree more, Felix." Make that two horribly familiar voices.

Wendy whipped around, eyes widening in shock- and then in fury. For standing now in the middle of the deck were the two people Wendy most wanted to strangle that night:

Peter Pan, and his most loyal of Lost Boys.

* * *

"Pan. Felix," Hook said, jaw tightening at the sight of him. He drew his remaining sword from his belt, moving swiftly so that he stood ever-so-slightly in front of Wendy. "Back so soon? I don't recall inviting you." He was furious, Wendy realised- far more lethal than he had been when he had last encountered Peter. "Come to poison more members of my crew with Dreamshade?" His voice trembling with anger- the kind of anger that was not just about Tinkerbelle, but something else.

Felix- and Peter, for that matter- completely ignored him. Felix turned so that he was speaking directly to Pan, although not so quietly that Wendy couldn't hear him with perfect clarity.

"It is as I said. The girl has been deceiving us- working with Captain Hook all this time."

Wendy was too shocked to argue- or to decide whether or not she wanted to argue. Let Peter think she'd been working with Hook. Let him hate her. Let him cancel their bet in fury. After everything he had done- to Lost Boys in the past, to Benjamin, and now to Tinkerbelle, there was something incredibly appealing about the idea that she might've pissed him off.

By the looks of it, she surely had accomplished that. Although she was glaring at him with all the intensity she could muster, he hadn't looked at her since he and Felix had revealed their presence. His gaze was focused solely on Hook, even as Felix spoke to him.

"That will be all, Felix," he said thinly. Felix, who had been almost glowing throughout the entire exchange, had the nerve to turn and smirk at Wendy. It was only a subtle smile, but it was enough.

Throwing caution to the wind, Wendy threw herself at Felix, fists clenched and clawing at him, kicking, gnashing her teeth, not caring how she did it- only knowing that she needed to cause him as much pain as was physically possible-

"Wendy! Love, get back here!" She heard Hook call. "Get back-" but his voice was beginning to sound suddenly very distant. Startled, she spun around to question Hook-

Only to find that he was no longer there. In fact, the Jolly Roger itself was gone from her view- the deck no longer beneath her feet. Against all reason, Wendy recognised the leaves and dirt that she now stood on- the trees surrounding them. Peter was there- as was Felix. But Hook was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

Panting, she grabbed at Felix's throat, shaking him.

"What was that?" she demanded. "How did you do that?"

"Oh, don't go blaming Felix," Peter interrupted, pulling her away from Felix. "You know only my magic is strong enough to transport us across the island." He wasn't smiling. "Felix, if you would be so kind." He gave the Lost Boy a nod. Felix, although undeniably shaken up by Wendy's attack, gave a nod back, marching away with a strong sense of purpose. Wendy stared after him, loathing him even more- wishing that she'd managed to scratch down his face while she had the chance- give him another scar to hide behind. In fact, if she hurried, she could probably catch up with him and-

"Don't even think about it," Peter's voice cut across her thoughts as he circled her- lips brushing against her dampened hair as he spoke.

"Go on, then." She put her hands on her hips as she faced him, refusing to be intimidated. "What? What could you possibly have to say to me now?"

"Oh, that's rich," he spat back at her. "We had a deal, Darling- and I thought I was clear when I said that there was no chance that I was going to let you join that blasted pirate's crew."

"That was _never_ your decision to make!" she scowled. "And I can't believe you're actually talking to me about honouring our bloody deal!"

"I_ am_ honouring it."

"You're cheating!" she laughed, although nothing was remotely funny. "You're twisted. Hey, I'm twisted sometimes- I endorse 'twisted'. But you are_ really_ bloody messed up. You can't win the bet, so instead of just forfeiting- or asking me to leave- you put someone's life on the line. You threaten a whole crew of pirates. You call that playing by the rules?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded. "And who are you to talk about rules when you've been working with Hook this whole time. That's why you've been meeting with Tinkerbelle, too. Don't deny it; I heard Hook call you 'pirate'." He was behind her now, whispering in her ear. "You know he doesn't really want to make a pirate of you. He just thinks he can use you- to cross the realms. To chase down his crocodile."

"Will you just- stop!" Wendy shouted, fighting hard to stop the tears from falling in frustration. "I don't care about Hook. I don't care about joining his crew- which, for the record, I am _not _currently a member of. I don't care how Tinkerbelle_ betrayed_ you. The only reason I was on that ship was because_ you_ had her poisoned with dreamshade and Hook is the only person on this island decent enough to want to help."

Peter leaned back from her. "What?"

"Don't," she said bitterly. "Just…" she turned to him. "If you were so desperate for me to leave, you know what would've been a good idea? _Telling _me. Instead of, you know, going on a bloody blackmailing spree!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Wendy snorted, and she became acutely aware that she was still in possession of the sword that Hook had given her. Peter was fast, though.

That only meant that she had to be faster.

"Right." In a single, swift motion, the sword was in her hand, raised and pointed straight at Peter, mere inches from his neck. He glances down at it, barely seeming troubled by it at all.

"No, Wendy. I really _don't _know what you're talking about," he said, accentuating every word.

She blinked at him. "Explain. And fast."

"Everything you're saying- about Dreamshade, and Tinkerbelle- it's the first I've heard of it," he said. "There were no orders made in regards to it. Not by me."

Wendy narrowed her eyes at him. She might've dismissed his words as lies- but then, he had no reason to lie. As much as she wanted to think that she now had the upper-hand, with her knife at his throat, she knew that she had not even come close to making him feel remotely threatened.

"You mean to tell me," she said slowly, "that you _didn't _tell Felix to go down to the Jolly Roger today to take Tinkerbelle- to threaten that if Hook didn't give her up you'd ensure that mermaids sunk his ship?"

"What are you talking about?" he said, annoyed, and Wendy's eyes widened. She kept the dagger at his throat for good measure.

"Tinkerbelle has been poisoned with Dreamshade by Felix," she said. "He told her that he has the cure- but that he will only give it to her if she flies me out of Neverland. Did you tell him to do that?"

He glanced down at the sword hovering at his neck, expression empty.

"No," he said finally. "I didn't."

She had no choice but to believe him. She stepped back, letting her sword clatter to the ground. Then she swallowed her pride and did what she had to do.

She begged.

* * *

"Please," she whispered. "Please cure her. I know you can- I know it's possible. Please, just cure her."

His eyes skirted over her, lazily. Perhaps it was her imagination, but he looked a little disappointed.

"I didn't think that you were one to beg," he said stiffly.

"I'm not." She looked at him imploringly. "But if it wasn't done by your orders, surely you can save her?"

"It's true. Felix went behind my back to do this," he mused. He was pacing again, circling around her. "But wouldn't allowing her to die be fitting punishment for him? He needs to see consequences for his actions, Wendy. If I simply cure her, he'll think that every time he makes his own plans, I'll be there to fix it up with magic."

"He doesn't _care_," she said. "He doesn't care if she dies. She'd be paying the price, not Felix."

His eyes glinted. "Oh? Then again, Tinkerbelle herself has something to pay for, too."

"Like hell she does," Wendy said angrily. "I know what she did, Peter. She helped my friend. She helped Baelfire try to come back to me. That was her big 'betrayal'. And she _has _paid for it. She is still paying for it, even now. Despite how you've treated her, she never stopped wanting to be on your side- god know's why. She's a fairy, for goodness sake!"

Peter breathed heavily, taking her words in. "And how," he said quietly, "could you possibly know all that?"

"I know because Tinkerbelle is my friend," she said.

"Then you admit it," his voice rose. "You have been conspiring-"

"_Conspiring_? No, Peter," she spat. "That isn't what friends do! But I have _spoken_ with her, and I know that even now, if you do this- if you cure her, then you have a chance at being her friend again, too."

"You say it as though it is all I could ever dream of," he said scornfully. "To be Tinkerbelle's friend."

Wendy looked sadly at him. He was just a boy. For other boys, the thought of a friend might be enough. But Peter Pan looked as though he was absolutely perplexed by the concept. For other boys, morality would have been enough. But morality didn't work for Peter Pan. So what would?

_Games. Deals. _That was a language which they were each fluent in.

"Alright, then," she said, mind whirling. "You'll do it for another reason."

"I will?" he folded his arms, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. "Now there's that misplaced confidence I like to see. Let's hear it."

She wanted to slap him for being so flippant about Tinkerbelle's life hanging in the balance.

"You'll do it because it's a trade. Cure Tinkerbelle- and I will forfeit the bet. You win. I will leave Neverland and never return." She folded her own arms, mimicking his position.

She heard him suck in his breath, eyebrows shooting up at her words.

"I win," he breathed. "I will never tire of hearing that."

"Do we have a deal?" She held her hand out towards him, as she had when the Shadow had dropped her at his feet. It felt like years ago now. He stared at it for a moment, not raising his own hand to meet hers.

"You would leave Neverland," he said, voice void of emotion.

"As soon as you wish it," she confirmed. "That was the agreement we made, was it not? You win, I leave."

"That was our agreement, yes," he murmured. He was still staring at her hand, not moving. After a moment, Wendy cleared her throat, stretching her hand out further towards him.

"Do we have a deal?" she repeated.

At last, he looked up to meet her eyes. His mouth quirked into a nasty grin, and he stepped forward, offering her his hand to shake.

"That we do."

* * *

_Pretty please review? :D. Hope you're all having a great day!_


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

_Thank you so much for your reviews, guys! So sorry about the delay in updating. Heere you go!_

It's everything you wanted

It's everything you don't

It's one door swinging open

One door swinging closed

_-Holding on and Letting Go, Ross Copperman_

* * *

Much to Wendy's relief, and, admittedly to her surprise, Peter, once he'd agreed to her deal, did not waste any time in upholding his end of it. As soon as they'd shaken hands, sealing their agreement, he'd asked her where the fallen fairy lay. He'd used magic to transport them to the Treasure Cave, saving them a great deal of time.

"But- the cure," Wendy said, confused as she stumbled blindly over the rocks at the cave's entrance. "I thought that water was only at the peak of those dark rocks on the other side of the island. Don't we have to get it first?"

"Way ahead of you, Darling," Peter's voice came from beside her in the dark, although she couldn't quite see him. "I always carry the cure with me for good measure. Lost Boys are cut by those blasted thorns all the time, you know."

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say, so they kept climbing in silence for a while. Just as the first of the glowing lights began to appear above them, Peter spoke again.

"You said before that you aren't really a member of Hook's crew."

"I did."

"Is that true?" he sounded disinterested; but Wendy knew him enough by now to know that he didn't ask things unless he wanted an answer.

"Yes," she said. "When I went back tonight- it was the first time I've even spoken to Hook since we freed Rufio."

"Good."

She glanced sideways at him, trying to make out his expression- but it was not light enough in the cave to see.

The sound of Tinkerbell's rasping breathing from the stone where she lay, bathed in reflected light, snapped her out of it.

* * *

"Over here," she said, even though Peter could almost certainly see Tinkerbell as clearly as she could. As they approached, Wendy stifled a gasp. She could not have been gone for long, and yet Tinkerbell was barely recognisable as herself. The green glow that always seemed to surround her was faded, and the dark veins had spread, merging from her neck onto her chin. There was a pool of scarlet beside her, where she had been coughing up blood. Her eyes were closed; but as they got closer, they flew open.

"We-Wendy!" Tinkerbell croaked, forcing a smile in spite of the effort. Her face fell when she saw Peter behind her. "What-what's going on?"

Wendy stood by Tinkerbell, taking one of her hands in her own. "It's okay," she glanced over her shoulder at Peter. "He's here to cure you." She couldn't contain her smile. "You're going to be okay, Tink."

"I… I am?" Tinkerbell said, hardly believing the words as she heard them. At Wendy's nod, she let out a laugh and a sob all at once. "Oh, my… oh my god."

Wendy laughed too, tears making her own eyes brighter. "I'm flattered that you had so much confidence in me, Tink," she teased. "I_ said _I wasn't going to let you die. Plus, I owed you."

"You did?" Tinkerbell said, dazed.

"Benjamin's arrow. You remember?" Wendy said. She felt Peter's glance then, but she was too focused on Tinkerbell to look back. She was just nodding, half a smile on her face.

"I know you said you'd save me," Tinkerbell said apologetically. "But then again, you _also_ said that you could beat me in mortal combat- so you see, I had my doubts."

Wendy gave a dramatic gasp. "What exactly are you implying?"

Tinkerbell laughed again- and then Peter stepped forward, looking rather uncomfortable. He slipped his hand into his pocket- pulling out a tiny glass vial. Inside it, Wendy presumed, was the water that would save Tinkerbell's life.

"Shall we get this over with, then?" he said gruffly.

Wendy nodded, slipping swiftly out of the way. "Of course."

Peter walked to Tinkerbell's side, popping open the vial. Reluctantly, he looked down at her. She was looking at him with wide eyes, and Wendy suddenly felt like she was witnessing a tense moment for the two of them. It was the first time the two of them had been this close to each other; and this civil- since Tinkerbell had been banished to Hook's ship.

"Drink," Peter said, guiding the bottle to her mouth. He held it to her until she had drunk the entirety of the contents, gulping it all down eagerly. He dropped the empty bottle into the water, letting it sink, joining the rest of the treasure there. Tinkerbell, meanwhile, sat up, watching in wonderment as the darkness that had spread through her diminished, slowly, but ever so surely. Her breathing became less desperate; less rasping.

"Thank you," she whispered hollowly, looking at Peter as she did.

He just nodded, turning away from her-

"Wait," Tinkerbell caught his arm. Raising his eyebrow, he turned back cautiously. "I- Pan," she said, "I just wanted to say… I'm not sorry that I helped Baelfire escape." She looked at him carefully. "But I never wanted to betray you, either. I just…thought you should know that."

Wendy hadn't really expected him to say anything to that; or worse, she thought he might laugh at the poor girl.

"Rest, Tinkerbell," he said instead. "Dreamshade takes a lot out of you. The cure works best while you sleep."

She hesitated, clearly not having expected that any more than Wendy had. She met her eyes over his head, and she nodded, wriggling down on the stone.

"Thank you," she said again. "Both of you."

"Don't mention it," Wendy said as Tinkerbell closed her eyes.

"Wendy," Tinkerbell said, eyes still shut.

"Yeah?"

"See you tomorrow?"

Wendy swallowed past the lump in her throat and she glanced at Peter. He was looking away from her, already making his way from the cave. No doubt he was waiting already; to send for the Shadow. To take her back to the world she had fled from. She looked back then, at her friend- peaceful. Alive.

_It was worth it. _

"She'll be here when you wake up," Peter said, and Wendy spun around in surprise, a question on her lips.

"Good night," Tinkerbell murmured, already drifting into her dreams. It seemed that dreamshade really did take a lot out of you.

* * *

Wendy fought to remain silent as she followed Peter from the cave, burning with the weight of her unanswered question, but determined for Tinkerbell not to hear her ask it, lest she should find out what Wendy had done in order to secure her safety.

As soon as they were out in the open air of the forest, she confronted him.

"I'll be here when she wakes up?" she asked. "I thought I was leaving Neverland."

"And you are," he said. "Don't think I'm letting you escape our little deal just because your fairy friend wants you to stay."

"I don't think that," she said steadily. "Not even for a second. Hence my confusion when you said that I'd still be here tomorrow."

"It's late," he said abruptly by way of answering. "And my Shadow is out on business at the moment. You will leave- but tomorrow night." Of course, 'tomorrow night' just meant 'when it is next dark'. That could be a long time from now- or a short time, depending upon how long the sun graced Neverland with its presence.

Wendy nodded, not wanting to think about tomorrow night. Neverland was no picnic- the recent chain of events had just proved that. But London had been no picnic either.

"In that case, I think I'll stay with Tinkerbell for now- in case she wakes up frightened," she said.

He shrugged. "If you wish it." Then he raised an eyebrow, a new question in his eyes. "You said that you owed Tinkerbell for something. Benjamin's arrow?"

"When we were hunting," Wendy said, "and the little traitor shot the arrow at me- it would have hit me if it weren't for Tinkerbell. Apparently the boy had a better aim than we'd first thought."

"I thought you were under the impression that it was I who had shot you," Peter said, looking at her curiously.

"Nah," she grinned. "If it had been you, you wouldn't have missed. Even if Tinkerbell had intervened."

"Wise of you," he approved. Wendy did a mock curtsey, rolling her eyes.

"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then." She didn't look at him when she said it- although she couldn't say why.

He bowed his head. "Until tomorrow night. Neverland will be glad to be rid of you, Wendy Darling." But his grin was too big for it to be genuine.

* * *

As it happened, Wendy was not there when Tinkerbell woke up.

She'd stayed throughout the night, even as the rays of daylight began to stream into the cave, as much as they could, anyway. But Tinkerbell was out for a long time. Still, Wendy stayed, even as the sun shone most brightly- even as it began to fall again, sunset arriving more quickly than she could have desired. Soon, the commutation outside got the better of her curiosity. The shouting, the cries- it sounded as though something major was happening in the Lost Boy's camp.

As she made her way into the familiar clearing, three things became apparent to her:

Firstly, that Peter was standing on a boulder, sword out. The setting sun favoured him, bathing him in light so that he looked like a mighty hero, about to lead a people into greatness- although, Wendy knew, that wasn't quite the reality of it.

Secondly, that, contrary to what she would have thought based on the sheer racket that had drawn her from the cave, only one of the Lost Boys was making a sound.

The third thing that she noticed? That Lost Boy was excluded from the rest, weaponless, bleeding, hood fallen from his head. His eyes, too, were red and swollen. And he was wailing like a wounded animal, begging on his knees.

* * *

"Take a good look, lads," Peter was saying, loud so that all the boys could hear him clearly. "Because this is the fate that awaits you- any of you- who would dare to take matters into your own hands."

"Please," Felix's voice was cowering along with his body. "Please, I'm sorry. I'll do anything."

"Lost Boys don't apologise," Peter's voice cut across him, harsh, unrelenting. "Felix here could have started a war with the pirates with his actions last night. If Hook were not such a coward, we could have well been under attack." It was then that he saw Wendy, transfixed. He nodded to her, before turning back to Felix. "You have betrayed me. You know the price for betrayal, Felix."

Felix let out a low cry, covering his face with his hands as he whimpered. Wendy might have felt bad for him under different circumstances- but Tink's poisoned arms flashed before her eyes, and she smiled instead, taking a great amount of pleasure in his every sob.

Suddenly, he raised his head, reddened eyes meeting hers, and he roared, raising a quivering finger to point to her.

"This is all because of her!" he growled. "Since she's arrived, you've been different. She's blinded you- she's poisoning you against me. I was only trying to save you from her-"

"By killing a fairy?" Wendy hissed, before anyone could stop her. "A bloody fairy, Felix. Tinkerbell wouldn't hurt a fly. She's the only innocent thing left on this island, and you almost got her killed because you hate me. Because you were too much of a coward to face me yourself."

"I am not a coward," Felix said hotly, staggering to his feet in his effort to walk towards her. She looked at him coldly, without remorse. After all he'd done, he didn't deserve it.

"Then you are a fool," she said. Enraged, Felix threw his fist at her with all his strength. Instead of moving away, she let him meet his mark, not even flinching at the impact as his knuckles bruised her cheek. The Lost Boys gasped, some making angry remarks amongst themselves. Peter, who had remained silent, allowing Wendy to face Felix without interrupting, jumped down from the rock, expression dangerously calm.

"Do you feel better now?" Wendy said quietly, willing Felix to meet her eyes. "Do you enjoy punching someone who won't punch back?"

Gritting his teeth, breathing ever so heavily, Felix raised his fist again in response. Anger boiled through Wendy, then, a surge of it rushing through her veins so suddenly and so ferociously that it took her by surprise. Moving quickly, she side-stepped his punch, trapping his arm with her hands, twisting it around so it was bent over behind his back. She pushed down, then- hard, and she didn't stop when Felix cried out in pain. Her lips twitched, almost enough to form a smile.

"Not so fun when they fight back, is it?" she said. "Next time, you come straight to me. And we'll see if you are a coward or not."

"Only there isn't going to be a next time," Peter said, stepping towards them. "You think I am blinded, Felix? You doubt my judgement? I assure you, I am anything but blind. I see everything that happens on this island, and do you know what I see now?"

Felix shook his head, a low moan escaping his lips. Wendy stretched his arm back further then- she rather liked that sound.

"I see a boy- the first Lost Boy- the most loyal of them all," Peter hissed. "I see the boy who owes me _everything_- and I see that he has failed me."

The boys around him were oddly quiet; more so than Wendy had ever seen them. She thought then about how very long Felix must have been around in Neverland. The first Lost Boy, as it were. How truly disconcerting it must be for them to see him on the ground like this, shaking and bleeding and more lost than any one of them. With one last, harsh tug, she freed his arm, letting him collapse on the ground.

"Let it be known, Boys," Peter called, "from now onwards- Felix is no longer a Lost Boy."

* * *

The Lost Boys were hesitant to react, although some muttered half-hearted cheers. Rufio caught Wendy's eye, frowning at her satisfied expression, and she knew she should feel bad for it. But she didn't.

"What are you waiting for? Bind him. Lead him away from this place. Rufio, I'm trusting you to ensure he drinks the concoction," Peter was saying.

"What will it do to him, Pan?" Rufio asked, while the other boys, shell-shocked, moved towards the whimpering figure on the ground.

"Well, we can't have him remembering where to find our camp anymore, can we?" Was Peter's answer. As the boys bustled about, Peter reached Wendy, lowering his voice. "Happy?"

"Very," she said bluntly.

Where Rufio had looked confused by her brutality, Peter grinned.

"I thought you might be," he said. "Has Tinkerbell finally decided to let you go? Who would have thought that friends could be so time-consuming."

"She isn't awake yet," Wendy said. "She's recovering from quite an ordeal, I suppose. I just thought I'd see what all the fuss was about."

"I told you- Felix needed to be punished. One way or another."

"You beat me to it," she said, a little enviously. "I would've liked to get a few more hits in." She glanced at the sky, then, not wanting to bring it up, but knowing it was inevitable, anyway. "It won't be long until the sun sets completely, will it?"

"Not long at all," he replied. "Does that upset you?"

"It hardly matters, does it?" She said.

"Hmm." Peter was standing behind her, now, looking up at the orange-red sky as well. He placed both his hands on her shoulders then, leaning closer to her so that there was little, if any, space between them. After spending so long in wet clothes in the cold of the Treasure Cave, that warmth was enough to cover her arms in goose bumps. "Here we are then, Wendy. I've won the bet, as we both knew I would. But I don't feel like I've won."

"Poor you," she said sarcastically.

"I didn't scare you," he continued. "Did I?"

"You wish," was her response. His chin was resting on the top of her head now, but she was too confused to shake him off, or say anything of it.

"It would seem a shame for you to leave without knowing," he said softly.

"Knowing?" She turned around so she was facing him.

"Whether I could have scared you," he said. Despite that they were still standing flush against each other, he didn't move. "Whether you could have scared me."

"It _will_ be a shame," she muttered.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be."

"What are you suggesting?" she said warily.

"One last shot," he whispered. "I try to scare you, you try to scare me. Once each. We find out for sure, who would have won." He leaned in, even though there wasn't space to. "What do you say?"

Wendy didn't take a moment to think about it. He was too close for that; and so was London, its grey skies and busy streets and empty houses where families used to be waiting for her around the corner, waiting to swallow her whole. The thrill of the game- that was her only salvation now.

"Let's play."

* * *

_Reviews make me reaally happy, so please do tell me what you think :). _


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

_Hi guys, so, this chapter is a little short, but there's something at the end of it that I think you'll like anyway ;)_

_Thank you so much for all the kind words!_

Hello, hello, anybody out there?

'Cause I don't hear a sound.

Alone, alone

I don't really know where the world is

But I miss it now

-Echo, Jason Walker.

* * *

Peter grinned, drawing back. "Excellent. Care to make the first play?"

Wendy shook her head at once; let him go first. Take his best shot. That way, she would know exactly what she had to beat. Besides, she still had her own plan. Subtle as it was- it could well prove effective, still.

"Suit yourself." Peter raised his hands dramatically. "Let the games begin, Darling."

She laughed patronisingly, opening her mouth to retort- and then she stopped, brow crinkled in confusion. Where Peter had stood, not a moment ago, there was now nothing. Nobody.

"Damn, magic," she growled under her breath, spinning around. "Where are you, then? Peter?" There was no reply. "Peter!"

Still nothing. Wendy glanced around- up, down, around. She looked behind trees, and even climbed one- searching for any sign of him. What she found instead was something even more disturbing: there was no sign of _anyone_. The Lost Boys were all gone, Hook's ship vanished. No mermaids sat at the lagoon she had been sure to stay away from since she'd arrived. Even the parasites that had attacked her before were gone. The life of Neverland was vanishing; all but the plants, poison thorns and berries hanging at every corner.

A fancy trick, for sure. But not nearly enough to frighten her. Not really. Besides, she knew of someone's exact location- someone who could not possibly have gone anywhere.

* * *

Wendy made sure to take her time as she made her way back to the Treasure Cave. She didn't want Peter watching from the trees, witnessing her panic; hurry. No, she would show him. She would show him that it didn't matter that he'd won- he never would have scared her had she stayed longer.

She was whistling when she entered the cave.

"Tink," she called, "you awake yet?"

No response. Heart sinking, Wendy started walking faster into the heart of the cave.

Sure enough, it was as empty as the rest of Neverland. Tinkerbell was nowhere to be seen.

She sucked in her breath, cursing; but then, had she really expected Pan to leave a loophole?

Still a little disheartened, she left the cave. As much as she hated to admit it, her heart was pounding faster than was normal. It was that feeling she'd get when she was younger; when she was in the park with her mother and brothers, playing by herself- when she'd turn around and realise that they had moved to another section of the park, and she had to run to catch up with them.

That feeling of _don't leave me behind. _That feeling of _I am alone._

She hadn't been really alone in a while. Ty had kicked her out, but she hadn't even spent the whole night by herself after that- she had come here. The last time she had been alone, she had lived on streets and in playgrounds. She had been wasting away, nothing and no one in a world without the magic to bring her to life again.

Being alone wasn't something she liked much at all.

* * *

She wandered about Neverland; pacing along the sand, climbing dunes, climbing rocks. Eventually she just sat down in the middle of the forest. He would come to her, she reasoned. If he grew bored enough. If enough time passed, he would reveal himself to her once he realised that she wasn't going to be frightened merely because she was isolated.

The only living soul on the island.

So she sat. Then she lay down, staring at the sky. It leaked red and orange like blood.

And it stayed that way.

Despite her own will, she began to feel nervous- because the sky didn't change. She didn't know how long she had been there, just staring at it- there was no way for her to measure time, and time in Neverland was as subjective as it could possibly be- but she was sure that she had been there for long enough that the sky should be darkening.

_No. _She told herself firmly. _He's tricking you. It's all just a trick, is all. _

She needed a way to keep the time. That was all: some way that she could measure how much time truly was passing her by. She started to count inside her head, counting the seconds to sixty before starting again, making a mark in the ground for every minute. She grinned a little as she made the strokes in the dirt. It wasn't so hard after all, to best Peter Pan.

All it took was numbers. All it took was counting.

One, two, three… thirty minutes passed. Thirty marks on the ground-

Except suddenly there weren't thirty marks. No, as Wendy looked up, counting each stroke in the ground in horror, she realised. There weren't thirty. There were three _hundred_.

Letting out a small gasp, she scrambled to her feet, and turned around- only to step back in horror. Before her, at her feet, there were more lines in the dirt- so many that she could barely count them.

_A trick. Just a trick. It's all just a trick._

She looked at the sky- but it was still the same colour. Still the same everything.

She looked back at the ground again- the strokes in the ground were all the same, exactly as she had been drawing them. It wasn't possible that she had been there, counting, for so long. It wasn't- but it was. It was _Neverland_.

Time was meaningless here. She could sit there counting for months, for years- she could tally the minutes in the earth for decades and Peter would be content to let her- the game would just keep going. There was no rush, not ever. There was no end.

* * *

Before she knew it, she was running- away from the marks, away from the sky, away from the empty sea. Noises escaped her mouth as she did, wincing, wishing it would stop. The symptoms that came before fear did.

"I'm not afraid," she said out loud. "I'm not afraid of_ anything_."

And then she let out a cry; for she looked up. The sky had changed- not slightly, but entirely. All around her was pitch black. There was no moon. There were no stars. She couldn't see a bloody thing, save for the outline of a jagged cave.

_The Treasure Cave, _she thought, and she tripped over her feet sprinting for it, as fast as she could carry herself over the space that lay between she and it.

She ran through its entrance, not noticing that there were no spiked rocks to climb over- no water. This cave was different. This cave was dry, and went deeper, a long, smooth stone surface leading all the way to a peak at its centre- a peak that she was running to, panting, heart racing, trying to get away from the lifelessness all around her, and behind her she could hear the path crumbling, the closer she got to the centre.

"_Boo."_

Her senses were too lost to her for her to stop the scream that erupted from her mouth then, and she barrelled into something warm and alive; a figure in the dark. She saw it raise its hand, and all at once, the cave was illuminated with candles all around its edges, allowing her to see the interior of this cave in all its detail- along with the face of the person she had crashed against.

"Peter."

* * *

He chuckled at the sight of her, making her want to smack him. "That was quite a scream, Darling. You certainly took your time getting to it. Welcome to the Echo Cave, by the way."

"How… how long?" she found herself saying. She pushed at his chest, making him laugh harder. "How long was I out there, dammit?"

"Oh, it's not as though I've been counting, but," he smirked, "ten minutes, give or take a few seconds?"

Wendy growled at him, appalled. "_That _wasn't fair."

"Sure it was," he said easily. "Don't worry. I'm eagerly awaiting your revenge." He chuckled again. It didn't seem that he'd stopped laughing since she'd arrived. Wendy looked around her, frowning. The path she had run on to get to him- to the centre of the cave- was vanished. They were standing in the middle of a great drop, with no way out. She brushed it off- probably another illusion of his. Besides, she was too angry to ask him about it.

All she could think about was stopping this laughter- wiping that smug grin off his face once and for all. Scaring him. Scaring him half to death.

Of course, scaring Peter Pan wouldn't be as simple as putting him in physical danger. Scaring Peter Pan, she had known from the start, would be a long process. Fortunately, she had the advantage of having started a long time ago.

_The only thing that can scare a monster? Prey that isn't scared. _

It was why she had let him shoot her when they had played target practice. It was why she had been honest with him when she told him that she did not fear death. It was why she had matched him every time he had tried to intimidate her. Peter Pan, the king of everything- treated as though he was nothing special. Nothing particularly terrifying at all. And she was about to show him just how unintimidating he was to her.

_"But what is a thimble?" he had asked her, and she had hidden her smile behind her hand as she closed the space between them, tripping over tree roots and her own feet on her way to get to the tall boy who had brought her here by accident- the boy who had magic and could fly and said the most wonderful things-_

The boy who was in front of her now, lips curled into a gloating smile because he adored the thought of her terror. Because he thought he had won. The boy who had magic and could fly and said and did the most terrible things.

"You cheated," she told him. "Oh, Peter, don't you know?"

"I'm sure you'll enlighten me, so go on," he said.

She beckoned him closer, and, eyebrows raised, he obeyed, moving so that there was nothing more than a thin layer of cool air between them. She lifted herself onto her toes, bringing her mouth beside his ear so that she could whisper the answer there- where only he could hear it.

"Cheaters never win."

She felt his shiver, but gave him no time to respond. Hands on either side of his face, she leaned in, pressing her lips against his.

* * *

_Hope you liked the chapter! ;) I know, _finally_, right? _

_Also, this story is around 3 more updates away from being finished. _

_What I want to suss out is, would any of you be interested in reading a sequel to this story at all? I was also thinking of possibly doing a long one-shot that tells the story of how Felix came to Neverland and met Peter Pan, and why he is so loyal to him etc.. At this stage, I'm not sure if I'll go through with either, so it'd be great if you could give me an indication of whether you'd want to read them. _

_Thank you so much, and I hope you're all having a fabulous day! The next chapter will be longer, I promise!_


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

_Hi everyone! Thank you soo much for your responses to the last chapter :) you guys are tooo nice to me! As promised, this chapter is longer...but, um... you may want to kill me just a little bit for it... _

Let me in the wall you've built around

We can light a match and burn it down

Let me hold your hand and dance

'round and 'round the flames

in front of us

dust to dust.

-_Dust to Dust, The Civil Wars_

* * *

She felt his gasp as her lips met his, smirking into the kiss. He hadn't been expecting that, she knew. Still, forceful, she moved her mouth against his, unyielding, telling him in the pressure of her hand on his cheek; telling him in the purposeful bite down on his bottom lip that she was _not_ afraid of him. That he was just a boy and not a King- for Kings had no time for thimbles. She waited for him to push her away. For him to panic and blush, just like a boy. For him to prove it. And then she would have finally won.

She waited, but the shove didn't come. But that wasn't to say that Peter didn't do anything about it.

After a moment- a moment that felt like such a very long one- Wendy felt arms envelope around her, one resting on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The other cupped her neck, tracing circles into her skin there. And then, something even stranger happened. Then, he was kissing her back.

Caught off guard, Wendy gasped, moving to pull back, but he just held her to him, kissing her again, kissing her as though he didn't plan on stopping. Clumsy, soft, eager- as though it meant something. And maybe it did. Maybe it had to. Maybe there were some things that couldn't happen _without _meaning something. Sharing the warm air between them, holding on to one another to keep from staggering off the edge of the tiny stone pillar, not speaking; hearts beating at the same irregular pace. There was something so very human about that.

With a start, Wendy pushed Peter from her, chest rising and falling rapidly as she caught her breath. For a moment, his arms were still around her. Then he blinked, frowning as he registered her before him as though he was waking from a dream. He fell back then, breathing just as heavily, a look on his face so lost that Wendy felt suddenly sick.

He was_ just_ like any boy. Now she saw it in front of her- proof of what she'd suspected the whole time. Proof that she was right. She had won, and her victory trophy stood in front of her, and it was innocent and confused and real.

_What had she done?_

* * *

"Look at you," she mused, trying to lighten the mood. "I suppose this means I must be either very, very bad, or very, very good."

He just stared at her as though he had never seen anything quite like her in his life.

"Wendy?" he said, confused. His brow was furrowed, lips bruised and swollen. His eyes were wide.

It was too much.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, not knowing what else she could say. "I shouldn't have done that." She turned around to leave- temporarily forgetting about the enormous drop off the side of the platform they stood on. She cursed to herself as she remembered herself, standing still.

She heard Peter clear his throat behind her, listening in dread as he spoke.

"You didn't let me finish, before," he said. "This is the Echo Caves. A place where secrets are told. It's the only way to get the bridge to come back. You need to tell your darkest secret." His voice was uneven. "It was to be the grand finale of my play."

Not ready to look at him, she stayed, gazing longingly at the exit. She had never in her life wanted so badly to be somewhere else.

"What about you?" she asked distantly. "I suppose you can come and go as you please?"

"I _do_ have magic," he said. "Besides, the island already knows all of my secrets."

"Lucky you." She sighed heavily. "And the Shadow?"

"Can fly in and out at will," he told her. His breathing was still irregular, voice still low. She hated to hear it.

"Very well." She swallowed. Then she rose her hands up towards the exit. "What's the expression, then, to summon the Shadow? 'I belie-'"

At that, Peter grabbed her around the middle, dragging her back into the middle of the stone platform roughly and clapping his hand over her mouth.

"What are you doing?" he demanded. She whirled around, surprised.

"I- the bet," she said. "The Shadow has to take me home tonight, remember?"

"Only at _my_ say-so. And I'm feeling generous," he retorted. "How's this for a new deal? I'll allow you to stay in Neverland. All you have to do now is reveal your darkest secret, and you can stay."

"Is that all?" she said sarcastically. She regretted turning around. She regretted looking at him. She regretted that she hadn't listened to Tinkerbell. She regretted that for so long she had ignored the tugging feeling at her heart whenever she was near him. Now, it was too late to take it back.

"It's not so bad," he murmured. "Besides…" he gulped, and it was only after he spoke next that she realised it was his pride he had been swallowing, "I've quite changed my mind. I've decided I want you to stay in Neverland. It would simply be dull without you." He looked at her with hooded eyes. The worst thing about them was that they weren't sad. They weren't even defeated. He was looking at her like he was telling her his own darkest secret- but as though he didn't mind. As though it was a truth that exposed her as much as it did him.

"That's not what we agreed," she found herself saying. "Send for your Shadow, Peter. A deal is a deal." She didn't want to go back. Dear god, she loathed to go back! Why was she saying the things that she was saying?

"You don't mean that, Darling." He was still holding her around her waist. Then, he loosened his grip on her, but did not let go. Even as Wendy composed herself, he leaned in, placing a trail of kisses along her neck- the hand that had once rested there trailing down to her necklace- the first kiss he had given her.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, just a little breathlessly.

He laughed, bringing his lips to her ear, kissing her there as well. "You started it," he said huskily. "Besides, I have wanted... I have wanted to do this, ever since…" Peter Pan, usually so coherent, his every word perfectly planned and said, was stumbling over his own tongue. "And I always get what I want," he finished, and Wendy, stunned, turning to face him. She tried not to look too affected when she realised just how close he was; his lips brushed against her neck.

"How dreadfully over-confident of you," she said tightly.

"Look who's talking," he murmured into her skin. He hesitated, glancing from her to the necklace. "I told you what my kiss was," he said. "Did I tell you what it means?"

"Protection," Wendy said hollowly. "Yeah, I know."

"You asked me before," he swallowed, "why I sent Benjamin away."

"Several times," she reminded him, and he grinned a little.

"Do you want the answer or not?" he stopped smiling, meeting her eyes instead. "The truth is, I did it because he'd shot at you. I couldn't forgive him for that, and so he had to go. You are- under my protection, Darling. I wanted you to have something that proved it."

He brought the pendant to his lips, and the irony of the gesture made Wendy laugh. He smiled when she did, and the flutter in her chest that followed hurt her heart.

"You've proven yourself, Darling," he said. "Since you arrived, you've proven that you're-"

"If you say 'not like the other girls'-" she began warningly.

"I don't _know _any other girls," he said impatiently. "I was going to say that you've proven that you _are_ brave- girl, boy, it doesn't matter." He stopped smiling, looking at her with upmost sincerity. "I won't make you go when you want to stay. I'm not a monster, Darling."

"Is it so difficult for you to call me Wendy?" she said- not daring to admit that she was coming to like the sound of her surname on his lips.

"Yes," he said frankly. "Everybody calls you Wendy. Rufio, Nibs, Hook, Tinkerbell. Probably everybody from your world called you 'Wendy'. But Darling belongs to me."

Wendy closed her eyes. "That's your reason?" She didn't know how to feel. She was no property to belong to anyone, least of all Peter Pan. But the way he said it, it didn't sound like such a degrading thing at all.

"It's only fair," he said gently. "You call me 'Peter'."

Her eyebrows shot up. "_That's _why you let me call you that?" For all this time she had been calling him Peter. She realised it, now; the reason he resented it so when she called him Pan. Just as she did not want to be a Lost Girl to him, he did not want to be a leader- Pan- to her. To her, he was Peter- that name belonged to _her_.

_This was not supposed to happen._

"Your darkest secret," he murmured in her ear. "Take your time, Darling. You'll have forever ahead of you once you do." His hands were shaking as they laced with hers. "You'll have my kiss protecting you- not, of course, that you'll need it," he added for her benefit. "And you can be pirate of your own crew, if you like. You can have your own ship- call it what you like. You can learn to fly here." His forehead was leaned against hers, the smallest amount of space between their lips. "You needn't even have your go at trying to frighten me, Darling. You will get your wish."

Wendy froze, then. _You needn't even have your go at trying to frighten me, Darling._

Oh. _Oh._

He didn't know- she realised, a sudden wave of guilt making her heart hammer louder. He didn't know that she had taken her best shot already. He didn't know that he had been hit by it- hard.

Wendy closed her eyes then, giving herself permission to feel this; his hands warming hers, his heart beating against her back, lips at her ear, brushing her skin. She allowed herself to feel safe, and excited, and happy. She allowed herself this to the count of ten. Then she exhaled sharply, opening her eyes, shielding them with all the pretences she could arm herself with.

You see, the moment Wendy Darling realised that Peter was under the impression that her thimble had been an act of emotion rather than a move in their game, she had realised that there were two things that she could do now: the first; she could do nothing. She could pretend that she had done it because she cared for him. She could accept that he had won. She could tell her darkest secret- whatever it was, for she had a few- and she could see where this strange path took her; the path in which Peter embraced her, kissed her neck, told her he would protect her. She could do all the wonderful things that he had whispered to her; be a pirate. A pirate who could captain the skies as she flew. The second thing she could do was less pleasant. She could tell him the truth. She could put on a scowl and tell him how awful he was- how much she wanted to leave, how pathetic he was for believing that she cared for him- and she could go back to her world.

And in that second, she had made her decision.

* * *

When she faced Peter, it was with a face of armour and a guarded heart, voice thick with the pretence of disgust.

"Oh, I know I will get my wish," she said. "But I will get it because I won, not because you've gone soft."

"What's that, Darling?" he asked, amused.

"Are you really that clueless?" she arched her eyebrow, making herself sound as patronising as she could. "Let me spell it out for you: the kiss was my play." She said each word very slowly, as though she were speaking to a baby.

"Come again?" Peter said, the light fading from his eyes a little. But it wasn't enough. Nowhere near enough- not yet. So Wendy grit her teeth and kept going.

"Oh, you must be confused," she laughed mockingly. "You still think it's called a 'thimble', don't you? Because of what I said the last time I was here- _years _ago. You're probably the only person across the realms who is so appallingly gullible."

"The thimble was your play," he said slowly, a dawning look of understanding coming over him. His lips were pressed together in a thin line, his body very still.

"Bravo, look who finally caught up," she said, clapping her hands together in applause. "And you and I both know that it scared you. Look at you, for god's sake! All wide-eyed and pouty. Like a scared child." She grinned. "See, that's all you are! I wasn't scared when you isolated me, you know. I hated it- but I wasn't scared. I just passionately dislike being on my own- it's boring as hell. So you see,_ I_ would have won, not you."

Peter shook his head slowly. "You fooled me, I'll admit that. But," his whole frame was trembling, as much as she could tell me was fighting it, "I don't believe you."

"You don't believe-"

"You bested me, I'll admit that. But the thimble- the kiss," he corrected himself, "wasn't just to scare me. You felt something. You still do, or you would have owned up to it straight away."

"If you honestly think-" she began incredulously, but Peter shook his head again, not letting her finish.

"I do," he said adamantly. He stepped forwards, laying his hand against her cheek again. "What does it matter who would've won? You're staying here with me either way, Darling. It's what you wanted. It's what I want."

"You're not the only one who's changed their mind, Peter," she said. Why wasn't he panicking? Why wasn't he angrier? "You're still not getting it. You see Peter, you're ordinary. Just an ordinary boy. There are plenty of those in my world. So why would I want to stay? There's nothing special here. You're nothing special."

"Don't," he hissed. "Don't you ever call me ordinary."

"What will you do if I do? Kill me? Banish me?" She laughed. "Come on, Peter. There's nothing you can do to me anymore. Do you know why?" He looked away from her, so she brought her face closer to his. "Because I _beat_ you."

His grip was suddenly on her neck, then- squeezing the air from her throat, making her gasp. But she didn't close her eyes. She looked straight at him, waiting for him to let her go- letting him know that she was perfectly aware that he would. He proved her right a moment later, releasing her from his grip as he turned away, cursing.

She didn't say anything after that- just watched him as he clenched and unclenched his fists, shaking the way Tinkerbell had shaken as she was poisoned- shaking as Felix had shaken as he was banished. Peter, she knew, would have made people quake like that time and time again. He would have loved it. Looking at him now, she couldn't say she didn't see the appeal. There was a sense of power to it- the realisation that she had won, that her words, her mind, had the ability to make another person so perfectly furious- unstable. But more than that was the self-loathing that came with it. _How could she?_

"You're like me," he said hoarsely. "You are so, so like me, Wendy Darling." He turned back to her slowly, stroking her cheek- not like he had before. No, this time, he did it with icy fingers, a cold tone. "You do what it takes to win. You change your mind. You play pretend more than anyone I know. I saw it in you when you made me shoot that arrow at you. I saw it in you when you made Felix scream today- the way you didn't want to stop. Tell me that you'd be able to go back. Tell me that you wouldn't be bored out of your mind, every day in your world. Tell me you wouldn't miss it." He was staring at her, demanding an answer.

"Miss what? Neverland? Or you?" she said roughly.

"I am Neverland, Darling," was his response. He swept her into him, and suddenly his lips were on hers. She sighed against his mouth, closing her eyes. She wanted to ignore it: the feeling of something hot and cold bubbling in her chest, making her giddy; the warmth of his hands holding her close; the way that he tasted like apples but smelled like trees and earth. But she also wanted to kiss him back, and she decided to allow herself this one thing: this one last kindness. God knew, once she went through with what she was about to do, there would be a shortage of such pleasantries in her life. So she kissed him. She kissed him, and she felt his smirk against her lips, so she kissed him harder, pulling him against her as she did until they were so entwined that she believed him completely: they were one and the same. She allowed herself to just stand there and be held and be kissed. It was a peculiar thing, to be kissed by him. She had kissed boys before, and they had known all too well what they were doing. They had frightened her with their insistence, and they would whisper threats about her reputation in her ear when she tried to pull away. But Peter, despite his darkness, was somehow so much more innocent when it came to this. He kissed her tentatively, driven by instinct but not guided by experience. He held her close, but not so tightly that she couldn't breathe. He kissed her because he meant it, she realised, and that was something all too new to her. Slowly, the urgency and the anger that had made his mouth frantic on hers began to fade away. He pressed his lips to hers gently one more time.

"You missed it before, Wendy. You came back. The real world was not kind to you, was it? And if you go back there, it will not change. There's a reason that so many children like to visit in their dreams. There's a reason that boys stand at their windows, begging for my Shadow. It brought you back here for a reason, too." He said it all so gently, but firmly.

"Maybe," she said numbly. "You're right. I would miss it." His eyes sparked at that, but she wasn't finished. "But you're also right about one more thing, Peter."

"Of course I am," he said, cupping her face in both his hands, smirking. He pressed a short kiss to her lips- it seemed that he couldn't help himself. "Go on, then- what am I so right about?"

Wendy breathed in slowly, and she tilted her head towards him again, lips hovering over his- the ghost of a kiss.

"I do what it takes to win." She stepped back from his touch then, as though it stung her- and in a way, it did. As fast as she could, she spun, facing the entrance of the cave, and she yelled it out, so loudly that even Hook on his ship would have heard it:

"I believe!"

* * *

The Shadow was quick- and for that, Wendy was grateful. For the moment the words left her mouth, she heard Peter's cry of protest, his footsteps making his way towards her to pull her away.

"You can win another way," he was saying. "I can find a way for you to not tell your darkest secret, I can get you out- Darling, please-"

"Stop," she said blankly, and he swore, pacing in agitation.

"Darling," he said, face scrunched up with the effort of trying to keep his voice steady, "I haven't said please to anyone in… in longer than I can remember."

"How rude of you." She said it without colour, without feeling.

"You don't understand," he said imploringly. "Darling, I… the way I… you are important," he went on weakly, searching for the words and joining them together, clumsily, but with all he had. "To me, and-"

"I don't care," she said, and then something inside her snapped. "I don't care about my stupid secrets- Neverland can have them! But if I stay here, I might fall in love with_ you_. And I wasn't afraid of the mermaids, or the trap, or the leeches, the poisoned arrows, the pirates, being alone- but god help me, I am afraid of that fate. Because you're right. I am like you. And if I stay here, and I love you, I will become_ exactly_ you. And I will hate myself for it." She stopped, unable to find the words to continue, for she had said them all, albeit unwillingly. They'd spilled out before she could check them, before she even knew that they were true. The look on his face then: it wasn't lost at all. It was just frozen. It was sorry and shocked and disbelieving and hopeful.

And his eyes were big and dark. And his mouth was half-open. And his hand was outstretched towards her.

She noted all of these things; because never in a million years had she thought that she would see Peter Pan looking at anyone like that. She also noted them because it was the last time that she thought he would ever look at her- and she at him.

Because a second later, the Shadow was there, reaching out towards her as it had twice before now. Two hands reached towards her- and one to take.

She glanced over her shoulder at Peter for a moment, imagining a world where she would take his hand. She closed her eyes, then, still imagining. And she imagined that it was his hand, not the Shadows, that she took hold of. Him, and not the Shadow, that began to fly, carrying her gently from the Cave. Carrying her away.

She kept her eyes shut tight as they flew, caught up in her imagination because the reality was infinitely worse.

She didn't see the stone bridge that led from the cave's entrance to the stone platform in the middle, reforming and growing as they flew. She didn't see the boy who stood there, eyes widening in understanding. _Her Darkest Secret. _That to love him was to hate herself. To be loved by him was to be afraid. The island had heard it, and now it was devouring it whole.

And then he was very glad that she could not see him.

Because Peter Pan had never cried and he never would.

But there in the Echo Cave, watching her fly away, he didn't feel like Peter Pan anymore.

There was nobody to witness the first of his tears as they fell; just the island, swallowing them up like they were, each drop, his darkest secrets. In a way, they were.

* * *

_... sorry... *cowers behind laptop*_

_On another note, thanks to you lads, I am now going ahead with both the Felix one-shot and the sequel :D. Thank you so much for your support!_

_Oh, and happy new year! (I have no idea what time zone you're in, but where I am it's New Years Eve :P)_


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

* * *

_Hi guys! Thank you, thank you, thank you for your reviews! I love you guys so much!_

_I'd also like to apologise for the confusion: I didn't really clarify that last chapter, in spite of it's air of finality, isn't where I'll be ending the story. In order to lead more directly into the sequel, I'll be posting two more chapters (including this one). So, next chapter will be the last update. Sorry for the lack of clarity about that on my part!_

Yeah I've been feeling everything

From hate to love

From love to lust

From lust to truth

I guess that's how I know you

_-Kiss Me, Ed Sheeran._

* * *

He had never_ felt_ so much before- or if he had, it had been so long ago that he couldn't remember it. He had always been connected to the island, somehow- when he was happy, the days were long and bright- when it grew dark and the plants began to die, he grew restless, gloomy. He didn't know whether it was he or Neverland that truly controlled the other. All he knew now was that he felt all of it- the wind, the dark, the rain as it started to pour and hiss outside. He felt it hammering on the deck of the Jolly Roger- heard the pirate curse as he stayed at the helm of his ship- persisting in the direction of the cure on his own, it seemed. He felt the sting of great palm leaves blown back against Rufio's cheek- felt the boys crying out in their sleep. Felt Felix, howling through the rain as though he welcomed the storm. He felt the cool of the Treasure Cove- the steady inhale and exhale of the fairy who lay recovering there. He felt her leaving- headed upwards too far- straight into the clouds and the rain. Her eyes were closed, and he hated her for it.

Of course she refused to look. Of course couldn't open her eyes and realise her mistake.

"Why are you so stubborn?" He whispered, and then he felt even more. He felt his body trembling- leaking, tears spilling out his eyes- the only way his body could possibly work to expel the terrible concoction of feelings that had struck him down. He felt the ghost of her lips on his- unexpected, unknown. He had felt like he had felt the first time he'd ever seen Neverland- this alien and familiar place that he had wanted, so much, so very, very much, from the moment he'd laid eyes on it. Then he felt her truth- her hate, but not for him.

He hated her. He hated her more than he had hated anything in his life. She was burning him- and she would not even look at him while she did it.

_But nobody leaves Neverland without my permission. _

His sobs became snarls, dangerous and fuming, and he scrambled from his knees to his feet- because nobody was leaving the island without his say-so, not again- and he would not give Wendy Darling his permission. Not this time.

So he closed his eyes.

* * *

When he opened them, he was exactly where he wanted to be- the Treasure Cave. To his left was a fairy- deep in her sleep. He shook her awake, urgently. His fingers on her arms would leave bruises, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything.

Her eyes opened lazily, as though she had the luxury of having all the time in the world to wake up. But in a blink, she took him in: his red eyes, his wild expression, tear stains on his face- or at least, they looked like tear stains. It was too strange a thought that he might have been crying.

"Pan?" she mumbled, sitting up on her rock at once. "What are you doing here? Why are you-" she whimpered, glancing at his fingers jammed around her wrists. "It hurts."

"You've got pixie dust, yes?" he said in a mad rush. "It doesn't matter if you don't- here, I do." He tore a tiny bottle from his belt, throwing it at her so it smashed, covering her with the fine dust within it- along with shards of glass that cut her skin as it broke. She flinched at the pain, sliding away from him.

"Pixie dust- what are you on about?" she coughed.

"Wendy," he breathed at once. "The Shadow has taken her."

"I- what?" she said, startled. "Wendy is leaving Neverland?"

"No," he said fiercely. "She won't be. Not if I have anything to say about it. Go after her- find them. Now."

Tinkerbell scrambled to her feet in a haze, rolling back her shoulders and gingerly testing her wings. The dreamshade was no longer poisoning her, but it had weakened her greatly. Her wings were sore. She could scarcely imagine being able to fly very far, or high, for that matter, right at the minute.

"I don't care," he spat, as though reading her mind, "if it hurts you. I don't care if it tears your wings in half. I don't care if it _kills _you. You will find her and you will bring her back."

"Back where?" she wondered. "To Neverland, or to you?"

For the second time that day, Peter snarled, stepping forwards so that Tinkerbell could not escape his glare. "We are one and the same."

Tinkerbell shivered, but she nodded.

"I don't know if I'm strong enough to fight the Shadow."

"Oh, you're not," he said. "But I am. Don't pay any mind to the Shadow. I'll deal with it. I'll _make_ it let her go," he glowered. "Your job is to catch her when she falls."

"Falls?" Tinkerbell said, alarmed.

"Go!" Peter barked, gesturing towards the Cave entrance. "Fly away, Tinkerbell- and know that if you return without Wendy Darling, I will destroy you."

Tinkerbell's head fell. "You saved my life," she said quietly. "And now you say you will destroy me. You didn't do it for me, did you? Or even just because it was the good thing to do? It was only for her."

"The clock is ticking," was all he said, ever so darkly. Partly in fear of him, and partly in fear for her friend, Tinkerbell scurried from the cave, stretching her wings back as she did so that, when she reached the forest, she launched straight into the sky- her wings carrying her into the heart of the brewing storm.

To where Wendy would be.

* * *

As soon as Tinkerbell left, Peter began- turning on his Shadow, reaching to it through his mind. It was bound to him, by a magic that ended in blood; magic that could not be undone. It could not resist his pull, however valiantly it fought, gnashing with all its strength at him, biting at the knot that sealed the two of them as one. He could feel it- inside his head, in his core, in his very bones. As he trembled at his knees in the Treasure Cave, he heard its voice, booming so that it echoed all around him.

_You cannot do this, Peter Pan. You will not do this. _

"But I will," he shouted back. "Let go of her, now."

_The girl leaves Neverland this night, _the Shadow's voice was never angry, or even scornful. It spoke each word with an air of calm that had always unnerved him. Now, it made him want to severe the link between them so that he could cease hearing it. It spoke to him in his dreams, sometimes- when he was alone, and when he was not. He was the only one who could hear it. These conversations of theirs, technically speaking, all took place in his mind. Now he wished more than ever that they didn't. He wanted to scream in its face. He wanted to hold a dagger to its formless body- as though it wasn't some strange part of himself. He have wrenched his Shadow from his body upon arriving in Neverland- that much he knew, though he couldn't say he remembered the event. All he knew was, since then, the Shadow had been a constant in his life- a source of counsel, a being without character. A being that, he knew, was beginning to develop its own kind of will: hence the two times it delivered Wendy Darling to Neverland in spite of its orders.

He could feel the Shadow defying him- its grip on Wendy was strong, and she was not fighting it. This was what she wanted, after all. But it was all getting fainter. Once they left Neverland, Peter would no longer be able to sense them. As it was, they were getting far too close to the border in the sky. He hissed, and his rage made the storm howl.

"I am Peter Pan, and you are _my_ Shadow," he said. "I am the King of Neverland, and I am commanding you to drop the girl you hold."

_You will kill her. No one could survive the fall if I were to drop them now. You will be the death of the girl you love. _But the words were merely threats, suggestions- the Shadow had no real power anymore, and it knew it. It could not disobey Peter- not when he gave the command with every ounce of strength that he had. There was no room for lenience.

"Better that she die in Neverland than live in her world."

He felt her in his arms like they were really his- not the Shadows. He could see her, as vividly as he had not moments earlier. He saw her, eyes still closed, face wet- with rain, or with tears, he couldn't tell. He wanted to brush them off and he wanted to laugh at them. If he loved her, he thought, though he barely knew what the word meant, he would let her do this. He would let her go.

Instead, he took a deep breath, and felt the Shadow loosen its grip.

* * *

All Tinkerbell could see was white-gray. The rain and the clouds folded in around her, swallowing her as she flew higher, and her wings were failing her, aching as they beat against the wind that was pushing her down. It seemed that the weather did not want Wendy to leave either, and so it was pulling backwards, doing all it could to keep her from leaving Neverland. Still, Tinkerbell couldn't see any sign of her. She let out a cry of frustration as she felt herself falling lower in spite of her efforts, gritting her teeth. She would not fail Wendy- not when she had gone to such lengths to save her own life.

"Tinkerbell?" An incredulous voice shouted through the storm, about as familiar as her own voice. Overwhelmed with relief, she allowed herself to fly down, feet skirting on solid ground.

"Hook!"

She was standing on board the Jolly Roger, Hook waving her over from the helm of the ship, a grin on his face.

"Look who's _not _dead," he greeted her, catching her in an unexpected, albeit awkward, one-armed embrace. "I've never been so glad to see you, lass. You've no idea what the past day's been like- I can scarcely forgive myself for letting that Lost Boy take you. Wendy Darling arrived on my ship and told me of what befell you, and ever since-"

"I_ was_ dying," she answered hurriedly. "I was poisoned by Dreamshade, but somehow, Wendy got a cure for me. But now she needs_ our_ help. The Shadow is trying to take Wendy away, and I must stop her- but this storm is making it impossible to find her, and I-"

"I've seen her," Hook interrupted, though his tone was bleak.

"Where?" Tinkerbell said, readying herself to launch back into the storm. "Which direction-" but Hook was shaking his head.

"Alas, she's not in the sky," he told her, spinning the wheel of the ship madly. The water churned around it as the great body of crafted wood began to plough in a different direction with upmost haste. "Before I saw you flying, I believed it might be you, or perhaps a Lost Boy- but now I know it must've been her. She was falling, love. She fell into the water, somewhere here."

_Your job is to catch her when she falls._ That was what Peter had said, after all. If only she had listened.

* * *

Tinkerbell gasped, hurrying to lean over the edge of the ship, squinting into the restless waves.  
"How high did she fall from?" she demanded. That water was strong, and cold- even the strongest of swimmers would have trouble navigating through these seas. But if she had fallen from too high, none of that would even matter. The fall alone could mean death.

"I can barely see anything up there through those bloody clouds- let alone make any accurate measurements of height," Hook scowled. "The water, Tinkerbell- look in the water!"

_I'm looking for Wendy's body, _she thought before she could stop herself. She shivered, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the cold sting of the rain, or something else.

"Come on, Wendy, come on," she muttered under her breath, staring into the water. Hook stopped spinning the wheel, then, hurling the anchor off the side of the Jolly Roger and joining Tinkerbell at the rails.

"Anything?" he yelled over the volume of the storm. Tinkerbell just shook her head. Her heart was racing, guilt pumping through her veins in the place of blood. Wendy had saved her life. She was a human- she had no magic, no wings, and she had still found a way. Now, try as she might, she could not see a thing through the pelting rain.

"He's going to kill me," she mumbled, thinking of Peter's face when he had come to her. She had felt a strange flash of recognition when she had awoken to his desperate words. Sore, panicked eyes- a clenched jaw, the shaking hands and the reckless manner. The _need_. She recognised it because she had seen it before, in the man who stood beside her.

When Tinkerbell had first met Captain Hook, he had that look about him. Sometimes, he still did. His need for revenge on the man who had taken Milah from him made him something dangerous. It was a need that could only come from losing somebody dear. She had always suspected that Peter cared for Wendy, and she had been honestly afraid for the girl because of it. But for now, Peter was determined that she didn't return to the place she had fled from- a place that Tinkerbell knew Wendy hated with all her heart. For now, it wasn't such a bad thing that he cared.

But that would make no difference if Tinkerbell couldn't at least find her-

"Over there!" Hook yelled, pointing with his good hand into the crashing waters, and Tinkerbell squinted, heart leaping. Sure enough, as the waves lurched and churned, a tiny body became visible, unmoving and floating, face-down in the sea. Tinkerbell let out a cry, and she ran forward, readying herself to launch into the water. Hook caught her, shaking his head.

"No," he roared over the rain. "The ocean's too strong, and you're only healing. It'd destroy your wings."

"I don't care," she said feverishly, fighting against his grip- but he was right; the dreamshade had taken a lot out of her, and merely flying over here had drained her almost entirely. Hook sighed, throwing his coat off.

"Throw me down a rope," he told her, and with that he stood up on the rail of the ship, sweeping his hands back and using them to propel himself forwards, landing in the water with a great splash. Tinkerbell stood, frozen in horror for a moment as she waited for him to resurface. She started to count: one, two, three, four, five, six- surely he should have come to the surface by now?

_Not Hook too._

She let out an audible sigh of relief when, at last, Hook's wet and disgruntled face emerged from the sea, choking on water and swearing colourfully as he did. Catching herself, she hurried across the ship, fetching the longest and sturdiest rope she could find and tying it quickly to one of the masts. When she returned to the side of the ship, it was to the sight of Hook, arms splashing and legs kicking as he made his way to where Wendy was. Tinkerbell didn't want to think about how long she might've been lying there, face in the water, and so she focused instead on her relief when Hook reached her at last, pulling her around so that her back was rested against his chest. Her face was icy pale, eyes closed, but that could be alright, Tinkerbell reasoned. She could be sleeping, or unconscious. She wasn't necessarily-

"Rope. Now!" Hook called.

She didn't need to be told twice. Hurling her arm back, she flung the rope into the water. It landed just to the right of where Hook held Wendy afloat. Leaning backwards so he was almost completely flat on his back in the water, Hook edged his way towards it, closing his eyes whenever the waves would crash over him, dragging him away from the rope. He reached out with his fingertips, only just touching it. Then, by some strike of good luck, another wave came crashing through, pushing he and Wendy into the proximity of the rope. Hook let out a victorious whoop as his hand tightened on the rope, and, securing Wendy again in his grip, he nodded up to Tinkerbell.

"Get us out of here!"

Tinkerbell's every muscle ached as she pulled at the rope, the weight of the water making Hook and Wendy heavier to haul to the deck, but she wouldn't let herself stop. It was with gnashed teeth and blistered palms that she finally saw Hook's good hand clamp down on the rail, telling her that it was alright to drop the rope. Her hands were burning, but she didn't care.

"Let me see her," she was saying, and Hook swung his legs over the ship, landing ungracefully face-first on the deck, Wendy curled against his chest. He rolled to the side, drawing himself onto his knees as he surveyed her.

She was so still; eyes perfectly shut. Tinkerbell stared at her for a moment. Then, with shaking fingers, she reached towards her neck, placing two fingers against its base and praying for a pulse.

"Wendy," Hook said, leaning over her. "Can you hear us, love?"

"I can't- she's not breathing," Tinkerbell bit her lip, a nameless terror silencing her. She pressed her fingers harder to Wendy's neck. She felt the cold and the wet- but not the steady beat of the heart that she was hoping for. She felt suddenly very numb; too numb to scream. Too numb to cry.

"Move," a third voice said.

* * *

Tinkerbell flinched in surprise, and Hook rose to his feet, hand going warily to his belt as he addressed their visitor.

"Pan," he hissed. "What brings you to my vessel at this time?"

Peter did not answer, though something told Tinkerbell it was not out of intentional rudeness. He did not appear to have even heard him- not really. He was looking past Hook, past Tinkerbell, eyes falling on Wendy, sprawled motionless across the floor of the Jolly Roger. The rain made them all look as though they were burdened with great emotional turmoil, simply crying their eyes out. He was no exception.

"You were supposed to catch her." He did not sound livid, as Tinkerbell had feared he would. Rather, he sounded like a child, naïve, stunned that the world had not bent to his will. Stunned that sometimes things didn't work out the way that they were supposed to.

Not knowing what to say, Tinkerbell allowed silence to fall over the three of them, with nothing to be heard but the howl of the wind and the lapping of the sails in the storm. It took a minute for anyone to move; Hook still had his hand resting on a weapon he wasn't sure he would need to use, and Tinkerbell was crouched at Wendy's side, staring intently at nothing in particular.

Both she and the Captain winced as Peter moved, expecting, out of past experience, that an attack would surely follow. Instead, he padded his way to the girl on the ground, the floors of the ship creaking as he sunk to his knees at her side, hands trembling as he laid them on her face, feeling in vain for a pulse at her temple.

"You gave me no choice," he told her weakly. "This is your fault. You know this is your fault." If she hadn't been so stubborn. If she hadn't been so childish. If she hadn't been so afraid.

Hook shot Tinkerbell a befuddled look. She just shook her head at him, hopeless.

"I…I'm sorry," she said carefully, wondering whether it was wise to even try to console him, and finding it bizarre that he might need to be consoled in the first place. Peter Pan might not be furious and violent at that exact moment, but that did not mean he would remain that way.

He let out a harsh breath. "You're sorry," he said hollowly. "You know, Tinkerbell, when you were dying, she begged me to save you. She was willing to do anything- even to let me win. And here you are, in the same position." He looked at her, eyes narrow. "You've given up on her."

"The girl fell a great distance," Hook said heavily. "If that didn't kill her, this bloody storm in the ocean may well have. She has no pulse that we can detect. You can thank your Shadow for that."

Tinkerbell gasped, but again, Peter ignored the pirate. It seemed he was only capable of looking at one person- not that she would ever be capable of looking back.

But he could change that.

She was, for want of a better term, all but truly dead; he had sensed it the second he set foot on the ship. His Wendy would never lie still for so long. She would no doubt feel his presence and open her eyes and slap his hands from her face, if she had even the smallest ray of life left in her body. She had burned so brightly, and the storm had doused her light, not leaving a single ember of her left.

But he was alive. He was, and he would be, if he had his way, forever. Neverland had fought death and won before, for him. He could make it do the same for her.

_But for what? _

He had seen her face in the Echo Cave. Her disgust, her hate. Her need to get out. She wouldn't play his games anymore, if she were to live on. She wouldn't stop trying to escape him. She would not call him Peter, and she would flinch if he ever called her Darling. He knew that, because he knew her.

But it wouldn't _be_ for her. Not really. If he saved her now, it would not be because he wanted the best for her. If he had, he would have let her go. No, if he brought her back from death now, it would not have_ anything _to do with her.

"You have no hold over me," he whispered in her ear, "I win, Darling. I win. And here is my proof."

He placed one hand over her heart, gently, at first. Then, with a clenched fist, he reached into her chest.

Tinkerbell let out a cry, and Hook yelled, wrenching his sword from his belt and flicking it at Pan's neck.

He paid them no mind. Closing his eyes, he let the magic connect them- he and Wendy, his immortal hand and her all too mortal one. He felt the same magic that let him cheat death seeping through his arm, into her chest, to where he held her heart in his hand.

He felt it beat for the first time, and, though neither Tinkerbell nor Hook could believe their eyes, he smiled. He sat there like that, just feeling each pulse, each tiny flutter telling him that she was alive; that he had done it, and damn whatever consequences followed, for nothing mattered more than Wendy Darling being alive, and nothing ever would.

Then, more cautiously than they could have given him credit for, he released her heart, withdrawing his hand. Wendy's eyes were still closed, but the rise and fall of her chest was all anybody needed to see.

"You… saved her," Hook said incredulously. Peter raised his eyebrows at the pirate.

"Only because you failed to."

Hook snorted then, fury making him reckless. "You can't be serious, _mate_."

"Hook," Tinkerbell said pleadingly, but he held up a hand, silencing her.

"No," he said shortly. "This _child _needs to hear this." He straightened, turning back to Peter. "You've messed about with me and my crew one too many times. You nearly got Tinkerbell killed, and now by some miracle she's alive- and what, you're ordering her around trying to clean up after your own bloody Shadow? Can't you control that thing? Why was it taking her, anyway, if it was not at your own command? You didn't save her life, Pan, mark my words. You simply cleaned up after a mess you created, probably for the first time in your blasted life. Well, congratulations. Really, we're all touched by this act of humanity-"

"You're free to go."

* * *

Hook stopped, sword-hand falling to his side in shock. "What did you say?"

Peter almost smiled, yet again, and he spoke so softly it could only be sincere. "You have been seeking safe passage out of Neverland. I hereby grant it to you. I have in my possession a bean that will serve as a portal- it will take you to whichever realm you desire to travel to."

Hook hesitated, and, after spending longer than he could remember stuck in Neverland at Pan's mercy, he could not be blamed for that.

"Why now?" he asked. "Why would you grant me this now, and what is your price?"

"Perhaps, when the time comes that we are reunited, and I find myself in need of a pirate's alliance," Pan said indelicately, "I will call in on a favour."

Hook frowned, glancing at Tinkerbell.

"Tinkerbell cannot leave Neverland," he stated. "Can she? She has been cured of Dreamshade, and so she must never leave."

Tinkerbell started, glancing from Hook to Pan.

"I… can't leave," she breathed, although she did not look nearly as mortified as she knew she ought to be. Neverland was where she belonged; where she stared longingly after the Lost Boys she used to call her companions. Hook had always talked about the day he would leave, and each time, Tinkerbell would ask herself the same question: would she accompany him?

She met the Captain's eyes, and he understood her completely. With a tightened jaw, he turned to Peter, not relenting his scowl.

"Aye. But I have a price, too. You give me your word that Tinkerbell will live under your protection," he bargained. "The two of you were allies once. Give me your word that you will cease to hunt her, and give me your word that never again will your Lost Boys try to have her killed."

Peter quirked an eyebrows, crossing his legs. "You are in no position to demand anything from me," he said. "But you know that."

"What'll it be, then?" Hook said.

Tinkerbell bowed her head, not particularly wanting to look at Peter as he glanced at her, his eyes scanning her up and down as though determining her worth and finding her to be lacking. She had seen him do it before, when he decided to banish her as punishment for helping Bae. What would her fate be this time? If not death.

"You have my word." Her head bolted up so fast she hurt her neck swiveling to look at him, mouth agape. "Tinkerbell will not come to any harm by my hand. Are you going to take my offer now, Captain? I assure you, it will not be repeated."

"I should say not," Hook sighed, and Tinkerbell felt quite awful when he looked at her like that; so apologetically, as though he was letting her down by leaving her on the island.

"It's okay," she said, chapped lips twisting into the most encouraging smile she could muster. "You have your crocodile to chase. You won't be happy until you find him, Hook."

"I would never forgive myself if anything did happen to you," he said, because he could not deny the truth in her own words.

"I will be alright," she said it without thinking, but, well, maybe she really would. Wendy was alive, and Peter was finally letting her back into his good graces. Maybe she would be welcomed back to the camp with open arms. The hope of it all made her giddy.

Hook's mouth quirked up in a smile, and he nodded.

"Right, well," Peter said gruffly. "This is all very touching. But I believe the Captain must head off, soon. Tinkerbell," he turned to her, not entirely unkindly, "return to the camp- I assume you recall where it is- and tell Rufio that I require all the boys to assemble when the storm is over."

Tinkerbell winced as she gazed at the sky she had just escaped from, but she nodded nonetheless. When she looked back, Hook was staring back. This, she supposed, was to be good-bye between the pair of them.

Crossing the deck towards her in two, long strides, Hook placed his good arm around her, pulling her close in a hug, wet leather enveloping her tiny body. When he drew back, he rose his hand to his forehead in a salute, and in spite of the sadness in his eyes, he grinned.

"Tinkerbell," he nodded courteously. "All the best to you, love. Don't go forgetting me, now."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Captain," she grinned, and he laughed, and it was a perfect bittersweet moment- and then Peter coughed impatiently. She stopped, turning to give him a nod as well. "Right. Camp. Rufio. I'll do it!" She hurried to the edge of the ship, rising into the air as her wings carried her upwards. "Goodbye, Hook! Good luck!"

"And you, Tink."

She flew backwards for a moment, blind to where she was headed in her efforts to say her last farewell. She did not turn around until the rain obscured her view of the drenched pirate on his ship, hell-bent on revenge- although, she sensed, he hunted the man he hunted out of loss of love rather than hatred.

She hoped that he found what he was looking for.

* * *

_As you can probably tell, the main purpose of these last two updates will be to establish consistency with the actual show and set the scene for the sequel._


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

* * *

_So, this is officially the last update for this story. I hate to get all sentimental for a moment, but I just really wanted to say that I cannot thank you enough for your support on this. I am stunned by the amount of follows, favourites and reviews this has received- when I started writing it, I honestly didn't think there would be any. You are all such nice people, and I wish you all the best._

That night he caged her

Bruised and broke her

He struggled closer

Then he stole her

_-Monster, Meg and Dia_

* * *

Hook may have been a pirate, but he flattered himself with the title of 'gentleman' as well. So, as a gentleman would, he ensured that Tinkerbell was well out of ear-shot before he turned back to Peter, an unsavoury matter making his lip curl.

"Well, then, Pan," he said. "If you'll hand over the bean, we'll be on our way shortly."

"Yes. 'We'," Peter said, glancing about. "Where _is_ that sad crew of yours, Captain?"

"The storm is fierce- in case you haven't noticed," Hook said sourly. "And my men are tired. They lie asleep below us."

"Abandoning their leader when times get tough," Peter mused. "You've got to question their loyalty to their dear Captain Hook. Perhaps they are only here for the free supply of rum." As he spoke, he grasped Hook's forearm, closing his eyes only momentarily as he spun them both around. When they next turned around, Hook was amazed, if a little disgruntled, to see that they were now in the midst of Neverland's darkest forest, headed towards a very old tree.

"Then again, so am I," Hook said, flashing a grin that vanished as swiftly as it appeared. "You are right about one thing, Pan."

Peter narrowed his eyes.

"That's the second time somebody's said that to me in recent times," he muttered. "Won't you elaborate, then?"

"These men…they are not meant to battle storms," he said. "They are not pirates."

_You are a pirate, Wendy. Given time, you'll be a great one. _Peter remembered those words. He remembered hearing them and wanting to kill Captain Hook then and there.

His voice was very cold. "You believe_ she_ is. You want her to accompany you on your ship."

"Aye, I do," Hook said boldly.

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Peter said plainly. "Dear Wendy is not conscious- and therefore unable to consent to any such plan. And I require you to leave _at once_." He wrapped his fist on the trunk of the tree, and sure enough, some part of the wood seemed to cave in, revealing the smallest of dark hollows within the tree itself. In it, a tiny, ugly bean. Peter popped it onto his palm, relishing the sheer desire with which the man beside him eyed the thing. For something so small, and so plain, it was uncanny the way that it could turn fearsome pirates into drooling hooligans.

"Wendy already spoke to me," Hook went on, tearing his eyes away from the bean. "When she visited the Jolly Roger to seek my help- before you and your boy showed up," he added in irritation, "she said she would gladly be a pirate. Gladly join my crew."

"She didn't."

"I fear that isn't a statement you can make," Hook said.

"And_ I_ fear that you have no way of proving that Wendy ever said that to you," Peter snapped. "She is not to accompany you. I have been generous with you, Hook. I am letting you get what you want-"

"No," Hook said slowly. "You're not." Peter rose his eyebrows at him. "It's because of her, isn't it? That you're letting me go."

"What _are_ you on about, pirate?" Peter said it carelessly, but his eyes were dangerous.

"There had to be a reason," he said with conviction, "after all this time, you let me go now. Yo_u knew_ she wanted to be a pirate. You knew that if she had the offer, she'd take it. You knew it was only a matter of time before she grew bored of your Lost Boys and came to my crew- to be who she wants to be. You want me to leave so that she won't have that option."

"Well, then. It took you a while," was all Peter said.

But Hook didn't feel pleased that he'd figured it out.

"What have you got planned for her?" he said warily.

"That is so far from being your business," Peter replied. "You cannot take her with you. I suggest you accept that."

"Or what?" Hook said. "Will you poison me with dreamshade, too? Like you did to Tinkerbell. Like you_ knew_ would happen to my brother-"

"Still touchy about that, I see," Peter had the nerve to grin. "I am not going to poison you, Killian Jones. I am going to let you go. All I ask is that you let me."

Hook rose an accusing finger, pointing it right at Pan.

"You use pretty words," he said. "But this is no offer of freedom. It is a trade. My freedom for her captivity."

"If you prefer to see it that way," he said, and he took a step closer, leaning in close to whisper in the pirate's ear. "Why do you pretend to even think about it, Captain? You already know you're going to take this deal."

"Do I?" Hook said bitterly. Peter smirked, drawing back just so that he could look him in the eye.

"It's what I like about you, pirate," he said. "You're a survivor. Felix gave you a choice when he came to your ship today, didn't he? You could have saved Tinkerbell from him. But you let him take her because you thought if you didn't I would have_ you _killed. It wasn't true, by the way. But that hardly matters. You chose survival then. You will choose it again now."

"I would care not for my life," he said hoarsely, "were it not for the cowardly man who killed my Milah. Nobody will avenge her but me."

"Tell yourself whatever you must," Peter said. He grabbed Hook's hand, placing the magic bean firmly in the centre of his palm and closing his fingers around it. "Leave Neverland, pirate. I won't be the one to suffer if you don't."

"Pan!" A boy-ish voice came at them from behind, and Hook vaguely recognised the dark haired boy as Rufio; not quite Pan's second in command, but quite a valued member of his own 'crew'. "I've been looking for you everywhere! Am I hearing, right, Pan? _Tinkerbell_ just waltzed into camp like she'd never-"

"Tinkerbell," Hook inhaled sharply. Then, so quickly that even Peter Pan could not have foreseen it, he spun on his heel, unlatching his dagger from his belt and burying it to the very hilt into Rufio's chest. The boy's eyes widened upon impact, his mouth drooping to form an 'O', and a sharp cry of pain escaped it.

"Pan," he choked, and there was blood on his tongue. Hook stared at him, at the light leaving his eyes, and he tried hard to remember that this boy was not as young as he appeared- not after spending so long on this island. Savagely, he tugged the knife from Rufio's flesh, and, with no support to hold him up, he promptly crumbled over on the ground, landing with an unpleasant thud.

* * *

Breathing hard, Hook turned to Pan. To his absolute disappointment, the child King did not look upset. He did not look angry. He did not even do Hook the decency of appearing shocked. He surveyed the body on the ground critically, as though he was looking at the state of a broken structure rather than a long-time companion. He even nudged him with his foot, sliding him across the dirt ever-so-slightly.

"It seems I must look elsewhere for a second in command," he said disinterestedly.

"What's the matter with you?" Hook said, truly horrified by the creature that stood before him. Whatever it was, it was not human. He stood there, holding a knife dripping with the blood of somebody who held the form of a young boy, and somehow, he knew, he was not the monster in the woods that day. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"Will you be leaving, then?" Peter said, ignoring him. "Or would you like to kill more of my boys before you go?"

"God bloody forgive me," Hook closed his eyes. "I must have my revenge. Aye, I will be leaving."

"There," Peter said kindly. "Now, was that so difficult?" He had grasped Hook's arm again before he could respond, and suddenly they were swaying on the deck of the Jolly Roger, the rain still belting down- though not as heavily as it had been. Both pairs of eyes went to the girl that still lay there.

Peter sat beside her, only hesitating for a moment before he slid one arm under her shoulders, another under her knees, scooping her in close to his chest. Her chin bumped his shoulder as he did, and she made a small, grumpy noise, never opening her eyes. He felt Hook's eyes on them, and he stood up, carrying Wendy with him.

"You did care," Hook said curiously. "Whether she lived or died, I mean. You cared very much."

"Is that what it's called?" Peter said. "Caring." He said the word like it was his enemy. In spite of everything, Hook clapped his hand on Peter's back as he passed him, moving to the trapdoor leading down to his crew. He would need each and every one of them on the deck when he opened the portal.

"Happens to the best of us," he said. "And the worst- evidently."

Peter appraised him then. He didn't often look at people with any measure of respect, but Captain Hook was one of the few. Here was a man who was as patient as he was ruthless- a combination that would serve him well. Enemy or not, that was something he had to give credit to.

"I pity the crocodile," Peter said, the kindest thing he had ever said to the pirate. "When you find him, he will be a dead man."

"Oh, he will be a dead man," Hook said determinedly, "but not _right_ away." He glanced down at Wendy, oblivious in Peter's arms. "She's a pirate, you know. Whether she comes with me now or not."

"A pirate without a ship? Without a crew?" Peter was skeptical.

"She lives by her own rules, and resents the ones forced upon her," Hook replied. "Careful, Pan. She won't hesitate to steal her freedom from you."

"Even a pirate Captain could not steal his freedom from me in the end," Peter said. Hook almost smiled, because, well, it was _almost_ a compliment.

"Well, until never again, Pan." He offered a salute, although it was a mocking one.

"Never say never, Pirate," Peter grinned.

And then he and Wendy were gone.

* * *

The sky had settled for a light whisper of rain by the time he reached the Treasure Cave, laying Wendy down upon the same rock that Tinkerbell had previously occupied. He did not really think about where he would take her; but he supposed that, if Wendy had a favourite place in Neverland, it would be here. He didn't pretend not to understand why. Everyone who visited the cave fell in love with it.

_You made a mistake today. _

He sighed, closing his eyes. He didn't need them to confirm the fact that his Shadow now hovered beside him.

"Wrong," he said. "I couldn't have let her leave. Letting her leave would be to let her win, and that is a weakness I will never have." He opened his eyes, ignoring the Shadow in favour of looking upon her again. She was still out, but it would not be long until that all changed. "She was willing to do what it took to win. Out of respect to the game, I must return that willingness."

_You may have won this game, but you have sabotaged yourself in the process. _

"I fail to see how, dear Shadow of mine," he said sharply, finally facing the dark figure.

_You used your magic to save her life. But your magic is linked to the island, and the island-_

"Is linked to me," Peter finished. "I am aware."

_But all magic comes at a price,_ the Shadow went on expressionlessly. _You are well aware of the cost of your magic. It is why we need the Heart of the Truest Believer. Your time is running out._

"I know," Peter growled. "And yet I see no sign of him. You have assured me yourself that he is not yet alive."

_He is not. But you gave the girl a portion of the magic that keeps you young and alive. There are consequences for that. Consequences that you must now suffer. You lessened the supply magic you have available to you, and as a result, you have little time remaining. The Truest Believer may well come too late. _

Peter had nothing to say to that. It was not as though he had not expected that something like this would happen; it was only logical- as logical as the island's magic could possibly be. Still, hearing it out loud, direct from the all-knowing Shadow, no less, was hardly a pleasant experience.

_What will you do, if the Believer does not arrive? _The Shadow was persistent.

"Oh, but the Believer will arrive," Peter said, ignoring the pang of worry that gnawed at his insides. "By very nature, the boy I seek cannot arrive too late. I believe in him." He cracked his knuckles. "But, I am by no means leaving this to belief alone. Leave Neverland- now. Search for clues, descendants, any indicator that my Believer is on his way. We must be ready for him when he comes."

_Your wish is my command. _The Shadow appeared to bow in the air, whisping away at enviable speed.

Peter turned back to Wendy, a smile on his face. It was not a nice one, and so he wasn't afraid to wear it.

"Oh, Wendy Darling," he muttered. "What am I to do with you?"

Of course, he already knew the answer; and she would not like it one bit.

* * *

Wendy woke up to bars. Fractured light and fractured shadow, falling across her face unevenly through the wooden cage that she was curled over in- for she had not enough room to lie down, or to stand. She sat, blinking hard because surely this couldn't be right. She had no memory of this- of anything. Anything, that was, but the hand that had held hers, and the way that even though it was not Peter's, she had pretended it was.

Was this London, then, that had locked her up? It would not surprise her if it was. She squinted through the bars, but all she saw was green.

"Hello?" she called, and it was only then that she realised how sore her throat was; as though someone had scrubbed at it with a jagged stone and filled her mouth with salt. Everything about her reeked of salt- her hair was sticky with it. "Hello?" she tried again, clearing her throat as best as she could. "Where am I?" Looping her fingers through the bars, she shook, hard. "Bloody hell, _anyone_?"

"Well, well." Shadows shifted in front of her as she felt somebody approaching, and she snatched her fingers back against her chest. "Our prisoner's woken up."

She knew that voice. She had left Neverland to escape it.

"Peter, is that… Wendy?" She ran her fingers through her hair, head spinning. That was Tootles' voice, she was sure of it. Which could only mean one thing.

"It is indeed," Peter Pan said, and though she could not clearly see him, she could tell by the volume and the arrogance in his voice that he was addressing the Lost Boys as a whole. "I see some of you appear confused. There's something you all must know about Wendy Darling. Felix, as my reinstated second in command, would you mind?"

_Felix? _

_But he was banished. _

"Not at all, Pan," came his response, filling Wendy with an innate sense of betrayal. This was the boy who had tried to have Tinkerbell killed- whose blind hatred of Wendy, and blind love of Pan, had made him a monster. And Peter had let him back in. "You see, boys, it is as I tried to tell you. This girl is a danger to us, and our cause. She is a mere distraction to our primary task: finding the Truest Believer and bringing him safely to Neverland. She tried to fool us all with her games; with target practice. The truth is her whole game was a ploy to keep us all occupied. We now have proof that she was working with Captain Hook throughout her stay, and we have Hook's fairy's confirmation."

"Isn't that right, Tinkerbell?" Came Peter's cold question, and Wendy felt a rush of betrayal, until she heard the soft whimpers of a person who was clearly being held against their will.

"I…Wendy is my friend," Tinkerbell said, shaky, but loyal all the same. Too loyal. Wendy flinched as she heard the unmistakable sound of a hand cracking down across a cheek.

"Clearly she has been manipulating you as well," Peter said.

"Not Wendy!" It was Tootles again, and Wendy felt a pang of gratitude and pity for the boy. As furious as she was becoming, hearing Felix spout out lies about her, she knew it was both brave and foolish of him to say a word in her defence. There was a second of silence, and she imagined that Felix was giving him a dirty look. "I just meant… she always seemed rather nice, is all." His voice was thick, like he had been crying.

"And yet she has been working with Hook," Felix said blandly. "The very same Hook who is responsible for killing your dear friend Rufio- one of us."

_Rufio? _Wendy shook her head, quivering where she sat. Lies. All of it was lies.

"You mustn't be too hard on yourself, Tootles," Peter said, so earnestly that she hated him even more. "She very nearly fooled even _I. _ But she did not succeed. We know better, now. We know that she is not to be trusted." She heard him pace, moving away from her and closer to his audience. "My Lost Boys, you have known for some time now that I seek the Truest Believer. All you need to know of it is that this Believer is to ensure that magic is always here; that each of you is able to stay here in Neverland forever. We do not know when the Believer will arrive, only that he is a boy who is yet to be born, in the land without magic. I am telling you this now because I want to make it clear to you: finding the Truest Believer is our number one priority. I want you all thinking of ways to find him, reaching into children's dreams at night, looking for any clues that might help us find him. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Pan," came the united response from the boys, filled to the brim now with a sense of purpose that could only come from a fresh mission.

"Well, Wendy, you're being awfully quiet," Peter said, and as he bounded back towards her, she could hear him all too clearly. "Is there anything you would like to say to the boys?"

Was there anything she'd like to say? Hell yes there was. There were a million things, the most obvious of which being: Peter Pan is lying to you. But they were his Lost Boys, and through some sequence of events that she could not for the life of her recall, she was his prisoner, and that made her their prisoner as well. They were all of them wrapped around his finger, and it was for the best; for those who tried to defend her were cut down and slapped across the face. So Wendy held her tongue.

"It seems she's finally realised," Felix said smugly. "The lies had to stop at some point."

Wendy bit back a growl and turned her body as far away from them as she possibly could in that cage, biting back the angry tears that threatened to spill across her face.

She didn't remember much, but she did remember Peter. The way he had spoken to her before she left. The way he had reached out to her, like all he wanted in the world was for her to take his hand. She could hear nothing of that in the icy drawl that taunted her from the outside. She felt nothing of it in the itching twigs that pricked her every time she shifted her body in her prison. She dug her fingernails into her palms, trying desperately to distract herself- for if she thought about it for another minute, she would either start cursing at Peter and Felix and all of Neverland and never stop, or she would burst into tears and suffer endlessly for it.

* * *

She heard multiple footsteps hurrying away, and she realised that she must have missed Pan giving them all orders to flee from the danger that lay in the cage, no doubt plotting their demise. She wondered for a minute whether Tinkerbell might have stayed behind, but she put it from her mind hastily. Thinking about her close friend whom she'd only just saved from almost certain death, who was now, by the sound of it, just as much a prisoner as she was, probably wasn't the best way to avoid a break-down.

As the footsteps grew more and more distant, a completely logical and rather bothersome one:

Was this it? Were they all going to walk away? Would she be trapped in this cage without food or water until she died?

The thought of it made her hammer against the side of the cage again, muscles straining to make even the slightest impact, but it simply wouldn't budge.

"Hey!" she shouted, not bothering to keep the panic from her voice.

At the crunch of twigs under feet, she almost sighed in relief: somebody was still here. Somebody had heard her. A shadow cast over her as the person outside the cage bent down beside her. Wendy squinted, wishing that the gaps between the bars were just a little wider. Then she saw a flash of blue-green eyes, and it didn't matter anymore. The gaps could stay exactly the same size as it was right now, because any wider and it would be too much. She didn't want to see Peter Pan's face ever again.

"So, she can talk," he said. "Well, then, Wendy. Do you like your new home?"

"What is this?" she hissed. "What the hell is this, Pan?"

She heard his breath catch when she said his last name, but she didn't care.

"This is what you get," he replied, "when you dare to think that you can beat me."

"I was leaving," she recalled. "The Shadow was taking me away."

"_My_ Shadow," Peter said. "Or had you forgotten? Everything on this island is mine, and the Shadow was no exception."

"But you _wanted_ me gone."

"You know that's not true," he said, a little more gently. "Not anymore. And Peter Pan never fails."

"You call this winning?" she spat. "You're lying to the Lost Boys- Felix is back, and I don't know what you've done to Tinkerbell, but so help me-"

"What?" He snapped. "What could you possibly do about any of this, Wendy? You're finally locked up- where you belong."

"My objection," she said scathingly, "is not so much to being locked up. It is to being locked up in_ Neverland_."

Suddenly, Peter's face was very close to the bars, and she could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke.

_"_Well, that's just too bad."

"You cheated," she accused him. Peter chuckled, and she wanted to strangle him for what he said next.

"I don't think so. You see, cheaters never win. Yet here I am, the victor."

"You're a coward," she said. "You're_ pathetic_."

"You should have thought about that," he hissed. "Before you gave me your precious thimble, Darling."

"_Don't_ call me that."

"Oh? But it is fitting, is it not? For you are mine, now," he laughed. "My little bird in a cage. Don't worry, you'll soon get used to it."

"You're a monster," her voice quivered. "I didn't think you were- not really. But now I'm sure of it. You're a proper, lurking-in-the-shadows, child-devouring, unreasonable wild _thing_."

"Ah," he said, and she could see his eyes glinting. "A monster I may be. But remember, Wendy Darling, that I did not have to be. _Always_ remember that. Besides, I learned from the best."

He stood up, beginning to walk away from her. As he did, he lazily told her that he did not intend for her to die- that a Lost Boy would be guarding her prison at all times, that she would be given food. She listened to none of it.

_The Victor. _

But he was too bitter to be a winner of anything. Too sad. Too affected by the way she had called him Pan like everyone else did. No, he had not won, but neither, she knew, had she. The game had destroyed them, eating away at them, making them weak. She had met her match in Peter Pan, and that meant that, from the start, it should have been clear. Nobody could really win here. They were both too horrid, too ruthless.

A single, strangled sob escaped her lips.

She should have listened to Tinkerbell. She should have taken the deal with Hook to begin with. She should have let Pan send her away when she had arrived for the first time.

Even before that, she should have never taken the Shadow's hand again. She should have stayed with her mother and her brothers. She should have been a good girl.

Pan was right: he may be the monster now, keeping his prey in a box. But she had been the monster first. She had made all the monstrous choices that had led her here, and she had played their game with darkness and high stakes, because it was the only way she knew how. She had been the one to goad the monster out of him. She wanted to throw up.

She wanted to do it all again, differently.

But that wasn't the way that time worked.

And now she was in a cage, trapped in the one place where time didn't matter at all.

Now, time was all she had.

* * *

_Please do leave a review! :-) Thank you again so much. _

_I'll get this sequel started as soon as possible :). It's probably going to be called '_Of Thimbles and Kings'.


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